” “Why not?” She turned on him. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. That was the true marvel of it. You’re such a strange girl. " "Keep it," said Trenchard, haughtily. Disperse in every direction. ” “What do you mean—by too late?” he demanded. Not I. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. "Oh!" she gasped. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. The music throbbed into the warnings that preceded the king’s irruption.
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