She contrived to break down the barriers of shyness at last in one direction, and talked one night of love and the facts of love with Miss Miniver. "I know you'll not deceive me. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. The piece, in three movements, was short enough anyway. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. And to think that man got it all out of the poorest little love-story for a respectable titled lady! Have you read of it?” “Never. Eight per cent.
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