The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. Still, thereafter she had avoided Morgan's; partly out of fear and partly because of her father's mandate. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. ” He shrugged his shoulders. Let us part in peace. It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl.
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