I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the general formation of his features favoured such a comparison. The queer phase of the dream was this, she was at no time a woman; she was symbolical of something, and he followed to learn what this something was. “The things involved in it are,” he answered gravely. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. It was fastened inside. Through the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of St.
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