He spends his life in a little carriage which he wheels about himself." "Poor fellow!" Hamel exclaimed, with a strong man's ready sympathy for suffering.

"That is just as much as I have heard about him.

Is he a decent sort of fellow in other ways?
I suppose, anyhow, if he has really taken a fancy to my little shanty, I shall have to give it up." Then, as it seemed to him, for the first time real life leaped into her face.

She leaned towards him.

Her tone was half commanding, half imploring, her manner entirely confidential.
"Don't!" she begged.