His sword done with, he took up the bludgeon; balanced it in his hand; upon the points of his fingers; and let it fall with a smash, intentionally, upon the table. The hansom sped through the crowded streets. There stepped forth a tall brown man. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. “Do you know him?” Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him. ” “You have it,” he declared confidently. It occurred to her that it was absurd and wrong to be so continuously thinking of one engrossing topic, and she made a strenuous effort to force her mind to other questions. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead.
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