Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. " Lady Trafford sighed deeply. She felt terrible lying to him. The rest of the crowd followed suit with weak laughter. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. She doubted if Manning would even listen to that.
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