Chapter 11 No.11

"Ah! it is journalese," said Oliver, at last, leaning back. "Tawdry stuff! But-but the thing!"

Mabel got up, passed across to the window-seat, and sat down. Her lips opened once or twice, but she said nothing.

"My darling," cried the man, "have you nothing to say?"

She looked at him tremulously a moment.

"Say!" she said. "As you said, W