"Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. Satisfied that he had solved his difficulty, he proceeded to his room. It was an oldfashioned peasant blouse, white, square necked, and trimmed with lace. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. “We are Mr. " "How so?" inquired Winifred. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire.
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