Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better. She was feeling extraordinarily well that night, so that the sense of her body was a deep delight, a realization of a gentle warmth and strength and elastic firmness. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. " "You've arrived in the very nick of time," rejoined Jonathan; "and I'll take care your services are not overlooked.
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