What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. ” Miss Pellissier stiffened visibly. Sepulchre's church, where, in compliance with an old custom, it halted. They crossed the Channel in sunshine and a breeze that just ruffled the sea to glittering scales of silver. But perhaps I had better get a room in an hotel to-night and look round. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. G'night, kids. . ‘But lay him down. .
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