The Angel. Thorne Guy
brother," the girl answered – "the exact day, in fact. The letter troubled me when it came; it has troubled me ever since. It spoke of the end of his work here, hinted that he felt he had almost done what he was sent into the world to do, though at the same time he bade me prepare myself for great events immediately imminent."
There was a silence in the big, bare reception-room. Mary broke it.
"What a dreadful day it is, Mr. Hampson," she said, with an effort to give the conversation a less gloomy turn. "I have rarely seen the fog lie so low over town. Oh, for a breath of fresh air – just five short minutes of fresh, unclouded air! I think I would give almost anything for that at this moment."
A sudden thought came to the journalist.
"Do you know, nurse," he said, "I think I am one of the few men in London who can give you just what you ask at this moment; that is, if you don't mind doing something slightly unconventional?"
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