As a matter of fact Mr. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. " "Decidedly so," replied Edgeworth Bess; "and I'll take this opportunity, while Jack's back is turned,—for he's grown so strangely particular,—of easing him of his snuff-box. Give me your name, girl!’ ‘Again?’ Mademoiselle rolled her eyes. I can vouch for that. Give me your staff. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. She shot a sudden glance at him. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom.
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