This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. Oh dear!—how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. He would know her address to-morrow. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. She laughed. ” She looked into her glass. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. “John, did those roses cost a fortune?” “Like I’m going to tell you!” “Oh, John, they were so pretty, but they must have cost an arm and a leg, and you should be saving for college. The light would betray us.
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