This is a tale of two young fools. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. ” “I don’t think it makes a rap of difference, except for one thing. A quick flush stained her cheeks. "Come away!" he cried, with the roar of a demon. For a time they walked in silence. I shall like to think of it—whenever I feel dull. . Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout.
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