Mr. Section 2. A diversion was created by the violent struggles of the little old lady. Once again, he passed his hand over the surface and carefully noted all the obstacles. ‘Yes, th-there it is,’ she uttered, stumbling a little over the words. And yet, when you offered to help, it was what is to come that I had in mind. Unless it was a jewel or locket of some kind. She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before.
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