She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. "You shall see him to-morrow. And will you look! His name neatly cut out from each title page. A town called Foster. ’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. A sprinkling of callow youths, and a couple of pronounced young Jews, who were talking loudly together in some unintelligible jargon of the City. Stow it in the saddle, for I will take it with me. It began to rain, a cold sweat of precipitation that was more sickly than refreshing.
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