" "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. The tall, blond boys, right?” “That’s them. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. Yes, this was a little better. Goodbye. When he tried the scullery door, and would have moved on, Hilary intervened. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. As soon as she noticed the stranger, she honoured him with an extremely impudent stare, and scarcely endeavoured to disguise the admiration with which his good looks impressed her.
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