‘And how is it that you have acquired this garb of a religieuse?’ he asked as she fitted the veil over her head. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. ” “I will tell you what there is about her which is so fetching,” Drummond, who was lounging by, declared. "Curse you! Where are the bailiffs? Rot you! have you lost your tongue? Devil seize you! you could bawl loud enough a moment ago!" "Silence, Blueskin!" interposed an authoritative voice, immediately behind the ruffian. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters.
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