‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary. ’ ‘Yes, but I do not wish to have a mystery. I thought that he was dead. She reached the station, and mingling with a crowd of excursionists who had come from the river on the other side, took her place in the train unnoticed. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is.
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