“Thank ye—thank ye, sir!—and I’ll just run down and tell the old woman now, and won’t intrude upon your dressin’ any longer.”
He grasped Breeze’s hand again, went out and closed the door behind him. It might have been the editor’s fancy, but he thought there was a certain interval of silence outside the door before the night watchman’s heavy tread was heard along the hall again.
For several evenings after this Mr. Breeze paid some attention to the ballet in his usual round of the theatres. Although he had never seen his fair neighbor, he had a vague idea that he might recognize her through some likeness to her children. But in vain. In the opulent charms of certain nymphs, and in the angular austerities of others, he failed equally to discern any of those refinements which might have dis
