"Not in any way?" "That gives me a pull!" Fleda returned, smiling.!

"To you, of course—to enjoy, to keep for yourself." "I don't know anything in the world half so well as you. If I were as clever as you I might hope to get round her." Owen hesitated; then he went on: "In fact I don't quite see what even you can say or do that will really fetch her."

"To send them back—to keep it quiet." The girl had not felt the impulse to ask him to sit down among the monuments of his wrong, so that, nervously, awkwardly, he fidgeted about the room with his hands in his pockets and an effect of returning a little into possession through the formulation of his view. "To have them packed and dispatched again, since she knows so well how. She does it beautifully"—he looked close at two or three precious pieces. "What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander!" "Well, was it I, pray, who perpetrated the wrong? Ain't I doing what I can to get the thing arranged?" "But she'll only have been here a few minutes. What sort of a visit is that?" Fleda cried.