“Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. Both started. It’s not you—not a bit. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. We are off for a second honeymoon. . At any rate, here I am, and here I shall be, twenty thousand feet above all your poison-reeking cities, up where God’s wind comes fresh from heaven, very near indeed to the untrodden snows. ' Sign it," he added, as, after some further threats, the letter was indited according to his dictation, "and direct it to Mr.
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