Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. He ignored her protests in order to pursue some impressive line of his own. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. It was so easy to forget the imminent threats of being discovered during times of peace. I will tell you this much, because you have been kind. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. "All is prepared. . ’ ‘How can it be in dispute?’ frowned Mrs Sindlesham. He and her father shook hands manfully.
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