In the shadow of a window-curtain sat a slight, simply-dressed girl, whose short curly hair and thoughtful countenance Jasper again recognised.

When it was his turn to be presented to Miss Yule, he saw that she doubted for an instant whether or not to give her hand; yet she decided to do so, and there was something very pleasant to him in its warm softness.

She smiled with a slight embarrassment, meeting his look only for a second.
'I have seen you several times, Miss Yule,' he said in a friendly way, 'though without knowing your name.

It was under the great dome.' She laughed, readily understanding his phrase.
'I am there very often,' was her reply.
'What great dome ?' asked Miss Harrow, with surprise.
'That of the British Museum Reading-room,' explained Jasper; 'known to some of us as the valley of the shadow of books.

People who often work there necessarily get to know each other by sight.
In the same way I knew Miss Yule's father when I happened to pass him in the road yesterday.' The three girls began to converse together, perforce of trivialities.
Marian Yule spoke in rather slow tones, thoughtfully, gently; she had linked her fingers, and laid her hands, palms downwards, upon her lap--a nervous action.