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Montague Hill is. F. I’m a little tired. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. ” He met her questioning eye, and repeated, “Oh! it IS a success. One day it was gone. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. She heard him come in; the light burned on. He smiled tenderly. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you.
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