While they were thus occupied, a maid-servant entered the room, and stated that a person was without who had a packet for Captain Darrell, which must be delivered into his own hands. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. You know—I wish I could roll my little body up small and squeeze it into your hand and grip your fingers upon it. She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. She had traversed perhaps three bookshelves, passed across the door that must lead to the hall, turned the corner, and was just about to reach the fireplace when she abruptly became aware that something under her fingers had felt wrong. Mr.
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