" "True," replied the widow, upon whom all the terrible recollections of the day before crowded, "I know it isn't. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. ’ ‘We are not all of us so empty-headed, Melusine,’ pleaded Miss Froxfield. Ennison with my sister last night. Even then she had understood vaguely that she had touched upon some philosophy of life: that one was never lonely when alone, only in the midst of crowds. She told us that it was a disguise. Strange, I could never learn her history. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself.
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