Mr. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. “You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. She visualized him as in a policeman’s uniform and quite impassive.
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