uh. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat. " "Killed someone?" O'Higgins laughed. She had a horrible glimpse of the once nice little old lady being also borne stationward, still faintly battling and very muddy—one lock of grayish hair straggling over her neck, her face scared, white, but triumphant. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. In the present instance she did not want any interference; she did not want the doctor's wisdom to edge in between these two young fools and spoil the drama. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not.
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