‘But we—mon mari and myself—we have the bonne chance. But he wrote on. I have one shilling and sevenpence halfpenny left. But—if you are a friend of Mr. " "None whatever," rejoined Wild. John looked at his feet bashfully. "The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. ‘No, no, I am convinced your very first theory was right. I don’t see what you can have to say. Later, when they returned home, she would serve as the topic of many conversations. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. “I’d have to be blown up into a thousand pieces. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. At present I cannot marry, I will not become bound even to any one.
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