Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. ” She smiled at him, an understanding smile, but her words defied him. My only love is for my poor lost son. “Well?” “I don’t care a rap for all these things. ” He left off abruptly. I love some one else. From time to time she would come upon a line of singular beauty or a paragraph full of haunting music; and these would send her rushing on for something that never happened. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had.
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