” Then she looked up at him with frightened eyes. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared. His ideas about girls and women were of a sentimental and modest quality; they were creatures, he thought, either too bad for a modern vocabulary, and then frequently most undesirably desirable, or too pure and good for life. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. "Here, Tom," he added, calling to a shop-boy, "run and fetch a constable. I want him as my friend.
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