For a time he and Miss Klegg contradicted one another. You Ann Veronica?” “Rather! I say—did you marry Gwen?” “Yes. "What is your name?" To-day, however, he broke the monotony. “Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. Beneath these prints, a cluster of hobnails, driven into the wall, formed certain letters, which, if properly deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler;" and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the following record of the poor fellow's fate, "Hung himsel in this rum for luv off licker;" accompanied by a graphic sketch of the unhappy suicide dangling from a beam. It was Annabel who spoke. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy.
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