” Mr. ” “I’m not surprised at it. You must dispose of the goldsmith's note I gave you yesterday, as soon as you arrive at Rotterdam. ‘How could I know that it is you?’ She peered at him in the darkness. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn.
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