It was a whirling moment, as he held her two hands in his, one of those moments when an incomprehensible orgasm quickens the blood and dizzies the brain.

Though the first syllables came to him faintly, Mrs.
Schoville's voice brought him back to himself.
"Oh!" she cried.

"You know him!" And Frona answered, "Yes, we met on the Dyea Trail; and those who meet on the Dyea Trail can never forget." "How romantic!" The Gold Commissioner's wife clapped her hands.

Though fat and forty, and phlegmatic of temperament, between exclamations and hand-clappings her waking existence was mostly explosive.

Her husband secretly averred that did God Himself deign to meet her face to face, she would smite together her chubby hands and cry out, "How romantic!" "How did it happen ?" she continued.