Manchurian Books

"What
do you think of the idea?" he concluded anxiously, manfully holding
his ground in the aisle.
"I think it's mostly nonsense," returned the woman tartly, "a big
expense and a sight of work for nothing. And now permit me to say--"
St. George vaguely wished that she would say "let."
"I agree with you," he said earnestly, "nothing could be simpler and
neater than these calico gowns."
The attendant looked curiously at him.
"They are gingham," she rejoined, "and you'll excuse me, I hope, but
visitors ain't supposed to converse with the inmates."
St. George was vanquished by "converse."
"I beg your pardon," he said, "pray forgive me. I will say good-by
to my friend."
He turned swiftly and extended his hand to the strange woman behind
him. With the cunning upon which he had counted she gave her own
hand, slipping in his the folded paper. Her eyes, with their
haunting watchfulness, held his for a moment as she mutely bent
forward when he left her.
The hymn was done and the women were seating themselves, as St.


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