. Wood, sharply. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Lights glimmered in the windows of the different houses; and a lamp-lighter was running from post to post on his way to Snow Hill. I don't know how to explain it," said Spurlock, "but music hits women queerly. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Probably something he had eaten.
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