Harris's color had returned. He now walked so fast that Pickles had to run to keep up with him. Suddenly, seeing a passing omnibus, he hailed it, and in a second was on the roof. He did not glance at Pickles. In reply to his tale he had not answered by a single word.
CHAPTER XXXV.
THE WINGS ARE GROWING.
Connie went back to Giles, sat down by him, and he resumed his reading. He was going through the Pilgrim's Progress to her, reading short sentences at a time, for his voice was too low and weak to enable him to exert himself for long at a time.
"Connie, wot were that as I read last?"
Connie colored.
"You weren't listening," said Giles reproachfully. "It wor a most beautiful bit. But you didn't hear me, Connie."
"I wor thinking o' something else jest then," owned Connie. "I'll listen now wid hall my might, dear Giles."