CHAPTER VIII.
I blush to confess it, but I invited Mr.Paraday that very day to transcribe into the album one of his most characteristic passages.

I told him how I had got rid of the strange girl who had brought it--her ominous name was Miss Hurter and she lived at an hotel; quite agreeing with him moreover as to the wisdom of getting rid with equal promptitude of the book itself.

This was why I carried it to Albemarle Street no later than on the morrow.

I failed to find her at home, but she wrote to me and I went again; she wanted so much to hear more about Neil Paraday.
I returned repeatedly, I may briefly declare, to supply her with this information.

She had been immensely taken, the more she thought of it, with that idea of mine about the act of homage: it had ended by filling her with a generous rapture.