One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. . . Did you see Lord Delafield and Miss Anderson? They packed me in with Colonel Anson and Mrs. ’ Gerald smiled. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. . Where can I have heard it!" "Devil knows," rejoined Blueskin. " "Bah!" returned the woollen-draper. On the orders of Mr Jarvis, that were. You may go back, Marthe.
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