"I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. And if she was ever found living in the area like that, homeless, John could somehow find out. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. We are alone and we can say and do what we please. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale.
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