He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. " "I forgot to mention there's a trifling reward for his capture," cried Shotbolt, popping his head from under the cloth. “I never saw Courtlaw with her—never heard her speak of him. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit.
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