Sir John felt hot and furious. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. ” “I have a clue, at any rate,” he remarked, smiling. A girl—at my age—is grown-up. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. Nothing else weighs against it. “You must do more than think of it,” he urged. Without Sheila, the denizens of the neighborhood might forget they had the ability to communicate with each other.
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