” “When?” “At tea. She alone of them all knew that he was on the first leg of the terrible journey to the beach. ‘You will like to marry me, yes?’ she pursued. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. There was nothing of the phenomenon in this. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view.
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