For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. “Well,” she said, “good-night, father. . What’s your name?” He asked in return. "I dare not, Rowland," she answered. Her thoughts were busy with the possibilities of this break in her journey. They rose as she approached. So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence. " "Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his lordship won't forget you. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. Gianfrancesco stumbled belatedly onto the beach, his feet padding wet sand.
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