Very soon she would be able to forget it. Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Her pa was only the smithy. For the most part these were detached people: men practising the plastic arts, young writers, young men in employment, a very large proportion of girls and women—self-supporting women or girls of the student class. She waited expectantly. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. \"Hi Mark. Grudgingly he admired her. “I’ll be hanged if I do. CHAPTER II.
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