” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. . The glance, which he threw at the door, was singularly expressive of his character: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolution. If we were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday.
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