" "May I trust you?" cried Thames, eagerly. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. “She must,” said Mr. She felt herself getting into a corner. “I was half hoping that I might be allowed to see you home. “If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now. No gentleman was ever called Thames, and Darrell is a gentleman, unless the whole story of his being found in the river is a fabrication!" "My dear, you forget—" "No, Mr. I speak no harm of her. He touched it again, and this time it was not withdrawn.
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