Then Whittington's offer of his wealth to Alice, her refusal, and so--to
the end.

"'I know a way,' said the Bell of St. Martin's.
'Tell it and be quick,' laughed the prentices below!
'Whittington shall marry her, marry her, marry her!
Peal for a wedding,' said the Big Bell of Bow."


Roger stopped there, and with Pittiwitz in his arms, rose to light his
candle. All about him people were saying things, but their words seemed
to come to him through a beating darkness. There was only one
face--Mary's, and she was leaning toward him, or was it above him? "It
was wonderful," she said.

"It is a great poem."

"I don't mean that--it was the way you--gave it."

Outwardly calm, he carried his candle and set it in its place.

Then he came back to Mary--Mary with the shining eyes. This was his
night! "You liked it, then?"

For a moment she did not speak, then she said again, "It was wonderful."

There were other people about them now, and Roger met them with the ease
of a man of the world. Even Barry had to admit that his manners were
irreproachable, and his clothes. As for his looks, he was not to be