I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. But here’s what is different this time. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. “Don’t!” she begged. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. ’ Gosse blinked. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. There’s no logic in these things. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground.
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