Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. Mr. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. Wood fancied he recognised. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. " "Well, Sir, his name?" "Jonathan Wild.
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