She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word. Anna jumped into a waiting hansom. “These are the sort of things that aren’t supposed to happen. I should know you—in Heaven or Hell. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun. And then! a garment that was conceivably a secondary skirt. His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction. These fellows must be right,” he added thoughtfully, “and yet—there’s a mystery somewhere. It was a look that accorded very well with the hayloft setting that had come to mind.
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