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THREE:��Very likely, my dear,�� said Mrs Keeling{106} amiably, ��and I��m sure that��s a beautiful bit of figured silk which he has his coat made of.��

THREE:��I want to ask your pardon, Miss Propert,�� he said, ��for my conduct to you this morning. I am sure you did not charge me more than your work was worth. I like your design very much. I shall be truly grateful to you if you will let me have that plate. I am sorry. That��s all.... I am sorry.��Hardly had the Doctor finished his story when there was a long whistle from the locomotive, followed by several short ones. The speed of the train was slackened, and, while the passengers were wondering what was the matter, the conductor came into the car where our friends were seated and told them there was a herd of buffaloes crossing the track.

THREE:He went back to his library when his wife left him, where an intangible something of Norah��s presence lingered. There was the chair she had{150} sat in, there was her note to him about her brother on the table, and the blotting paper on which she had blotted the entries she had made on the catalogue cards. He took up the top sheet and held it to the light, so as to be able to read the titles of the books. There were the authors�� names in big firm capitals, the book-titles in smaller writing but legible. She had done a lot to-night, for he remembered having put clean blotting paper for her, and the sheet was covered with impressions. Here she had been sitting at work, while he talked and listened to those people in the drawing-room who meant nothing to him...."Why did you not fire?"