But it was of no avail. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. "It'll ease your mind. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. ” “I’ll wait, then. "Mrs. Sheppard's ward, Sir. ‘Pen and paper, do you have them?’ ‘Danged if I have,’ came the truculent response. He never felt any need to explain himself. He was continually dramatizing the future, anticipating the singular role he had elected to play. . “A Socialist of the order of John Ruskin.
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