He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. That is what my mother used to call me. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. It was a mass of knick-knacks. He was a man who in all things classified without nuance, and for him there were in the matter of age just two feminine classes and no more—girls and women. Outside in the hall he paused and thoughtfully stroked his smooth blue chin. “Your sex is a terrible fraud. “Great Scott!” he exclaimed huskily.
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