The more she disentangled the lines of her situation the deeper grew her self-disgust. "I am no man's mistress," answered the widow, crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek deportment, and humble tone. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. S. ‘Then he went stark staring crazy, if you ask me. I see now that you make a game with me indeed. ‘There is no one who could have told him this. Ask your own conscience. “Now, there, there. ‘I agree with you. Melusine saw fire in his eyes and a streak of heat rushed through her to match it. Their small talk continued. “Some day,” she answered. Her eyes fell, and then sought his again with timid interest.
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