Oh, to face facts! Gods! what a world it might be if people faced facts! Understanding! Understanding! There is no other salvation. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. It was immediately opened by a man with light eyelashes and a manner suggestive of restrained passion. But her heart kept on sinking. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. I asked her to marry me, and she consented. A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle neck, shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to the provident kindness of Mr. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford.
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