‘Tell me, my boy. ‘Mary was indeed naïve, but there I should say the similarity ends. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. "I must have dropped it when I took out my note-book. " "A young fellow who thinks he's in love, when he has only been reading too much. What CAN she put before that?” His voice began to rise. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. For some days we shall be very idle there among the trees and rocks. In the morning and at night he is dressed as he would dress in the big hotels. CHAPTER XXIX.
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