Her Faithful Knight — page 25: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Moonlight Walk. ry “Mr. Read!” she exclaimed, looking up at him won- deringly. At least, she had taken the trouble to find out his name, and that of itself was an encouraging sign. ‘“T was seeing the new piece,” he explained. “I was smoking a cigarette outside when I caught sight of you crossing the street. It is very late for you to be out. You will let me see you to your home, will you not?” “Thank you, I am really quite able to take care of my- self,” she said, in her little cold manner, withdrawing her hand from his arm. “Please don’t let me take you from the theatre. The last act had not begun when I left. | was sketching the dresses in the green-room and the cur- tain will hardly have risen yet. I know my way perfectly and am not likely to be annoyed again.” Her voice, in spite of the studied restraint of its ac- cents, delighted him. It was eminently the voice of a lady, sweet and low-pitched, and wholly free from the shrill and unpleasing inflection at that time popular among would-be “smart’’ folk. “T can’t leave you now,” he said, gently. “I must de- cline to be dismissed until I have put you in your cab or omnibus.” “T cannot ever afford to take a cab,” she returned, sim- ply, “and I generally walk until my omnibus fare is two pence.” 7 “Let me come with you as far as the two-penny limit,” he urged. “Why, Miss Knight, should you treat me as a roaring lion, seeking whom I may devour, simply because lam aman and you area young lady? If you insist on a formal introduction, I will supply it. My name is Aylmer Read; my father is dead; my mother has married again. He was a writer; I am a journalist. For seven years I lived at Clofield, and for about as many weeks I have been COMIC “S (E@)