For a moment he believed this merely a new phase of the dream. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. She flew to the door, but returned the next minute, looking deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that it was "only Mrs. "Aw Come. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. I wonder if she has any idea how oddly beautiful she is?" Ruth at that precise moment was engaged by a relative wonder. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. He was confounded by the presence in which he found himself.
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