“You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. That is quite as far as I mean to tempt Providence to-night. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Shotbolt, the head turnkey of Clerkenwell Prison, and Mr. Never. She smiled and started for the stairs without reply. Gerald sighed. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest.
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