" "Poh! poh!" rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle boasting. The Supper at Mr. If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. " "You don't remember your mother?" "Oh, no; she died when I was very little. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. ‘Adieu, imbecile,’ she threw at him gleefully. As though accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk.
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