"Put it under my pillow," he said. "There!" cried Mrs. ” He started back as though he had been shot. She never knew what became of her farmer after that. ” “I am staying,” she answered coolly, “at a small boarding-house near Russell Square. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. Her name is Lucia, she works in the Alberti Yarn Shop, across from Florestano the Butcher!” I happily rewarded her with a shiny new Florin and sent her off. ” It was as if she faced a darkness in which was something very beautiful and wonderful as yet unimagined.
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