‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Kneebone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of addressing. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. “I have come for an explanation,” she said. " The object of this discussion sat motionless. "You are all right?"—anxiously. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. Her body went into spasm. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. ‘Imbecile.
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