"Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. The light was poor, so that she saw their gleaming faces dimly and indistinctly. " "Who?" almost screamed Mrs. It’s my other side of the moon. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. She was no longer a confederate in that. “You remind me of the story which they tell against us over here, you know—of the Englishman who refused to be saved from drowning because he was unacquainted with his rescuer.
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