’ ‘Oh, that tragic pair,’ uttered her ladyship in saddened tones. He knew it to be St. ’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. But at the beginning of the affray, when he thought every one was too much occupied with his own concerns to remark his absence, he slipped out of the room, not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he had another object in view. The months that followed September spiraled downward.
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