Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. Perhaps I am still mad. Shari was snoring soundly. The woollen-draper was no despicable trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the knife and fork were child's sport compared with those of Mr. ‘But the fact remains that you should not have enjoyed it, you were quite right to threaten to kill me, and I— God help me!—should not have kissed you at all. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. .
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