It seemed to her at this moment that there was nothing left for her to do. Bring me clothing, I beg of you. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. who retailed a store of faded learning in the Tredgold laboratory. "You hay'n't hurt your arm, I trust, my dear?" he added, anxiously. .
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