His hug became an embrace. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. Wanting his coat, when he must have known that the pockets were empty! But the effort to talk had cost him something. The latter looked very pale, either from the effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed, or from suppressed emotion,—partly, perhaps, from both causes,—and wore his left arm in a sling. Listening attentively, he fancied he heard the breathing of some one near him, and moved cautiously in the opposite direction. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. “I will not intrude upon you further. ” She found her muscles a-tremble. " "A penny, if you please, Sir," said the hawker. .
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