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" "Zounds!" cried Marvel, "I—" "Hush!" whispered the tapstress, "or I retract my promise. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. “You let him touch you!” John whispered back. The great door of the Stone Hall was thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the room. ‘You do not understand, Gérard. I loitered in the shop as you chatted with the butcher’s girl. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I could make you understand. .

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