Listen to me, Winifred. Flowers, theatre boxes, carriages, the “open sesame” to the whole world of pleasure. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. He only stays here for you, hoping in vain. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. As she approached the corner of the Avenue the blond, no-hatted man in gray flannels appeared. ‘Damnation! Too late.
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