Even in her painting smock and with her disarranged hair, the likeness between the two girls was marvellous. " "As you please, Sir," replied the tapstress, coolly. His gaze dropped to the black garment that covered her. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. ” Manning tapped with his racket on the turf through some moments of silence. As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were aroused.
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