“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Bon. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. When he beheld Jack he uttered a deep groan. \"Oh, that's okay, I do better if I study alone. Too late now.
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