“Perhaps that is only sleeping,” he said. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. ’ All at once Mrs Sindlesham looked across at him, a sharp question in her eyes. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you.
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