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“I do,” he answered. ” Diane purred. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings. She went about the familiar home with a clearer and clearer sense of inevitable conclusions. Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe. The man’s passion was infectious. It was her distinctive test of an emotional state, its interference with a kindly normal digestion. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. It was time to get up. The tiles lay a foot thick in the road. His voice now had lost its ironies. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. Anna lets the deception continue and has to bear the burden of her sister’s reputation which, in Paris at any rate, is that of being a coquette.
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