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“MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. Because she states her case in a tangle, drags it through swamps of nonsense, it doesn’t alter the fact that she is right. He’s just. " Further remonstrance, however, was cut short by the sudden entrance of Mrs. Ruth flashed in and out of the sunshine; and he took note of the radiant nimbus above her head each time the sunshine touched her hair. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. ‘Who, the émigrés?’ ‘Do I speak of the English, imbecile? Certainly the émigrés.
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