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She reached a tiny yellow-fronted cottage covered with flowering creepers, and entered the front room by the wide-open window. “I will tell you as much as this,” she continued. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. \" He looked crestfallen. The sergeant had not seen it for he understood nothing of what she told him. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. My servant. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. “It was great, Shari!” She replied the stars still in her eyes. "Leave me, Sir; I insist. Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. Dear God, what a beautiful moment!" The fire went out of Spurlock's eyes and the shadow of hopeless weariness fell upon him. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time.
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