” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. " "My courage gave out. . . ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted. They sat in the windowed booth at the restaurant across from each other. He told her something about music, the great world outside. “You have succeeded a little too well in your personation,” she said bitterly, “to get rid very easily of Mr.
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