He had no home to go to: pah! there were plenty of hotels, he remembered, smiling grimly.
It was bitter cold: he buttoned up his coat tightly, as he walked slowly along as if waiting for some one,--wondering dully if the gray air were any colder or stiller than the heart hardly beating under the coat.

Well, men had conquered Fate, conquered life and love, before now.

It grew darker: he was pacing now slowly in the shadow of a long low wall surrounding the grounds of some building.

When he came near the gate, he would stop and listen: he could have heard a sparrow on the snow, it was so still.

After a while he did hear footsteps, crunching the snow heavily; the gate clicked as they came out: it was Knowles, and the clergyman whom Dr.Cox did not like; Vandyke was his name.
"Don't bolt the gate," said Knowles; "Miss Howth will be out presently." They sat down on a pile of lumber near by, waiting, apparently.