She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. "You have betrayed me," said he, in a deep whisper, to his companion; "but you shall reap the reward of your treachery. I am having them to my own soirée on Monday. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. The heavy weapon thundered against the door; and it speedily yielded to their efforts. No tricks would serve. "Well?" he whispered. ” The girl nodded. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out.
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