No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. “Is that you, Nigel?” she asked. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. I think not, Annabel. ” “Your ideas of fairness—” he remarked, and discontinued that sentence. The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess’s side. Wood laughed louder than ever. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. “I suppose my levity is incorrigible.
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