He turned, and beheld Winifred. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. Kneebone's door, you begged me to await your return here, assuring me you would not detain me five minutes. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. However, it would only be robbing the hangman of his dues. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. As Mrs.
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