"Yes," came suspiciously from the shadow. "What girl are you?"
"Oh, Frank—don't you know me?" said the spot. "Your wife, Fanny Robin."
"Fanny!" said the wall, in utter astonishment.
"Yes," said the girl, with a half-suppressed gasp of emotion.
There was a tone in the woman which is not that of the wife, and there was a manner in the man which is rarely a husband's. The dialogue went on.
"How did you come here?"
"I asked which was your window. Forgive me!"
"I did not expect you to-night. Indeed, I did not think you would come at all. It was a wonder you found me here. I am orderly tomorrow."
"You said I was to come."
"Well―I said that you might."
"Yes, I mean that I might. You are glad to see me, Frank?"
"Oh yes—of course."
"Can you—come to me!"
"My dear Fan, no! The bugle has sounded, the barrack gates are closed, and I have no leave. We are all of us as good as in Melchester Gaol till to-morrow morning."
