Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. As O'Higgins signed the hotel register, his keen glance took in the latest signatures. “I believe that you are right,” he said softly. “I may seem unduly— anxious. "He does," replied Kneebone, "and, what is more surprising, it seems to increase. ’ He scratched his chin as if he thought about it, but covertly kept a careful study of what he could see of her face. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne.
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