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” “It isn’t precisely faults,” said Ann Veronica. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. ’ ‘This is what you say of him? Me, I find he is growling all the time like a dog. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. " There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken only by a few feeble groans. Tears sprang to her eyes.

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