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nearer, I saw there was a bottle of scent It had no label, and when I

opened it I smelled the exquisite perfuet it? It is the purest I have ever smelt in my life

I looked at the quaint little fourpost bed that I had found in that shop

at Bath, a perfect specimen of its date, about 1699, with the old deep

rose silk pressed over the shell carving

I had an insane desire to open the drawers in the chest and touch her

stockings and gloves I had a wild feeling altogether I wanted ed for her

I resisted my stupidities and ain in ot back to the salon

"There are ru to happen, Sir

Nicholas,--talk of an Armistice I heard when I was out Do you think

Foch will do it?"

But I know all these rumours and talks, we have heard the, as time went on, but a

passionate ache Why, why must she be so cruel to me? Why does she leave

me all alone?