Thursday, and from the window where I was writing letters I saw
the forlorn soul taking up her position at the top of the street:
in a blast of fury I rose with the one letter I had completed,
meaning to write the others in my chambers. She had driven me
from the club.

I had turned out of Pall Mall into a side street, when whom
should I strike against but her false swain! It was my fault,
but I hit out at him savagely, as I always do when I run into
anyone in the street. Then I looked at him. He was hollow-eyed;
he was muddy; there was not a haw left in him. I never saw a
more abject young man; he had not even the spirit to resent the
testy stab I had given him with my umbrella. But this is the
important thing: he was glaring wistfully at the post-office and
thus in a twink I saw that he still adored my little governess.
Whatever had been their quarrel he was as anxious to make it up
as she, and perhaps he had been here every Thursday while she was
round the corner in Pall Mall, each watching the post-office for
an apparition. But from where they hovered neither could see the
other.

I think what I did was quite clever. I dropped my letter unseen
at his feet, and sauntered back to the club. Of course, a
gentleman who finds a letter on the pavement feels bound to post
it, and I presumed that he would naturally go to the nearest
office.

With my hat on I strolled to the smoking-room window, and was
just in time to see him posting my letter across the way. Then I
looked for the little nursery governess. I saw her as woe-begone