“MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. Ann Veronica pushed aside a tea-cup and the vestiges of her strawberries and cream, and put her elbows before her on the table. Wood; but they never come now. There was something fatalistic about the letter H. Give way, and let us render what assistance we can to the poor wretch. ’ ‘What?’ gasped Gerald, shocked. You don’t have to live forever to understand that. “Uh, I think I might, Shari.
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