“Hullo!” Courtlaw, haggard, his deep-set eyes more brilliant than ever, took Anna’s hand into his, and breathed a little close drawn sigh of content. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. “I don’t know much about the technique of music,” he said at last, with his eyes upon her. She is, in her way, a dear. She felt she must get him talking upon some impersonal theme at any cost. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. The Times slipped from his fingers. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www. " "Be it so," replied the knight, who saw the force of this reasoning.
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