"What?… Oh!… Well, good Lord!" He wrenched loose his head and stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. " "Funny, about that coat. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Wood resounded from below. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. I can't give you my hand; but you may take it.
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