Giles's round-house," answered Terence; "but tell Mr. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. Ruth did not resent the use of her mind and body in this tale of adventure. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless.
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