She looked at him gravely and squinted. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ’ ‘Gad, there is someone there,’ exclaimed Hilary beside him, shading his eyes with one hand. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. “And that only brings me up to about sixty-five! “A glittering wilderness of time That to the sunset reaches No keel as yet its waves has ploughed Or gritted on its beaches. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it.
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