Earles threw down his pen with a little exclamation. Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained muscles, and bruised hands; streaming with perspiration, and with lips so parched that he would gladly have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for a draught of water; he sank against the wall, and while in this state was seized with, a sudden and strange alarm. “Look after her! Why not? But you have done it all your life. "I should like to know where Mr. I followed you home on the train. He turned. You are—or rather you were——” he corrected himself with an unpleasant little laugh, “Miss Pellissier, eh?” A little sensation followed upon his words.
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