At sunset the swarming abruptly ceased; even the sampans appeared to draw closer together, with the quiet of water-fowl. It was really most vivid, most vivid! You seemed to be slipping and just going to tumble and holding on. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. The man lingered. Winifred instantly picked it up. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him, Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the garret. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL.
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