This man and he were alike, and about the same age. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief. She was marvellously pretty, but he was not quite sure—yet—that it was advisable for him to sit with her in so public a place. "I'll tackle it to-night!" "But it's after ten!" "What's that got to do with it? … The roofs of the native huts scattering in the wind! … the absolute agony of the twisting palms!…. Hearl on HounslowHeath. Return, I implore of you, to your master,—to Mr.
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