" "By my soul, no," replied Jonathan, with affected sincerity. She reminded him sometimes of the one holy and ineffable Madonna, at others of Berode, the great courtezan of her day, who had sent kings away from her doors, and had just announced her intention of ending her life in a convent. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. “As she asked!” “It is already too late. Unwillingly he drew a little nearer, and became one of the group of loiterers about the entrance.
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