Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Before Michelle could go on, Lucy interjected, \"You must have quite a course-load with all those heavy books.
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