Dare you?” “Do you mean NOW?” “At the end of the session. At length, the body was brought towards him. Slowly and reluctantly she came to realize that Vivie Warren was what is called an “ideal. Again silence. She pulled her veil down, and he knew that silence was best. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. You see to what it has brought you. “Stop,” he said. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. Love lives on a higher plane. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance.
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