’ ‘Miss?’ gaped the soldier. You’ll end up dead, that’s what. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. "He has been indefatigable in his search," continued Winifred, "and has even journeyed to Manchester.
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