"Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. E. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. “We’ll go to a place where we can have a private room,” he said. Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. Indignation carried her through that night, that men and the world could so entreat her. ” She shrugged her shoulders.
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