She was unusually soft and gentle in her manner to him. . "Done!" cried Shotbolt. Hastening to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields,—for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party,—till he reached the Edgeware Road. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. "He left Dollis Hill at ten o'clock on that night, and has not since returned. ” Her answer was terse. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation.
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