“It seems so unfair,” she said, “to take all you offer me and give so little in return. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. ‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief. She shrugged her shoulders. ” “Why?” asked Hetty. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. .
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