“The plain common-sense of the case,” he said, “is that we can’t possibly be lovers in the ordinary sense. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. " Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she had seen, Rachel left the room, and, shortly afterwards returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper;—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small dishes of pastry. Both Ruth and McClintock came down to the launch to wish him God-speed and good luck.
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