Then she called a hansom and drove home. Spiders came out of their hiding places to commune in windows, industriously spinning their own designs over the stained glass. Mrs. . " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. The shops were lighting up into gigantic lanterns of color, the street lamps were glowing into existence, and she had lost her way. . Only how had they missed him? Were they imbecile? Or perhaps the mists had concealed him from them.
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