out a walking with �Jack Hardenbrook.�     So
she sat down & we talked awhile, & then
to the piano, & she sang to me.   Presently
in came Alfred Brown.   And so the time
passed, Lotty singing again and again, with all
& more of the old enchantment about her.    She
gave �Auld Robin Gray� so sweetly & touchingly
that I would fain have wept at it.    And there
she sat, with that clustering, jetty maze of ringlets,
those bright, sparkling wild eyes, lit up with such
a smile that one�s heart ached with a sort of
yearning admiration, wonder & pity for her.   Divine
little, frank, impulsive, generous, selfish, wayward,
beautiful girl what a damned no-result is thy
life, and will so continue.      A wife � and
now, virtually a widow.       I wonder what sort of
cub the fellow was.  How did he win her? By
the old snare, I suppose.      Cant of adoration.