Superstition—you knock into it whichever way you turn. “I am exceedingly sorry,” he said. ” “Did you ever formally change your name to Albert, Lucy?” “No, I did not. Pottiswick’s daughter found her tongue. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. In olden days it boasted a chapel, dedicated to Saint Thomas; beneath which there was a crypt curiously constructed amid the arches, where "was sepultured Peter the Chaplain of Colechurch, who began the Stone Bridge at London:" and it still boasted an edifice (though now in rather a tumbledown condition) which had once vied with a palace,—we mean Nonesuch House. Maggot, whose nerves were more firmly strung, she contented herself with waving her hand affectionately to her lover, and encouraging him by her gestures.
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