"Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders. "Marry, come up! Mightn't he just as reasonably complain of your being a Hanoverian and a Presbyterian? It's all matter of opinion. “But how can you?” asked Constance. Perhaps the Parisian atmosphere had affected him. 225 “Sebastianus. "You've won your wager. On her lapel was an ivory button, bearing the words “Votes for Women. 1 through 1. My father was Colonel Pellissier.
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