A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. “How crude you are, Anna!” she exclaimed with a little sigh. “I tell my Mom everything. ” He saw her into the train at Waterloo, and stood, a tall, grave figure, with hat upraised, as the carriage moved forward slowly and hid him. ‘Oh, we was always in there, miss,’ admitted Joan, moving closer.
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