A crumpled-up newspaper thrown from the gallery hit her upon the cheek. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. She made lumpish and inadequate interruptions rather than replies. " The mortal agony behind those eyes! And all the while he had probably loved his child. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. Diane suggested to him that he retire early, and he did so agreeably, halfknowing it to be an order. On the way home he was still thoughtful. "Do you compare your love—a love which all may purchase—with hers? No one has ever loved me. " "Respecting Thames Darrell?" observed Jack. ‘Not entirely English then. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him. Her face expressed nothing. Do have another. He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. " "Hear me, Blueskin," said Jonathan, restraining his choler.
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