" "You hear, my son," said the widow eagerly. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. . “Had the pleasure of dining with you at the ‘Ambassador’s’ one night, before the show, you know—last September I think it was. "Too late, master," replied the landlord of the Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop. She could not see clearly. Her eyes followed him. “Do you mean in looks?” she asked. ’ A grimace crossed her face. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. "Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. “But, forgive me, you are tired. \"Drives a red Jeep?\" \"Uh-huh.
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