’ ‘Dieu du ciel,’ came from the lady in a furious tone, before the astonished Roding could respond. It might be upset. "There, Sir," she added, unlocking the door, "you can go in. ” She looked thoughtfully into the fire. On the one hand, she seemed to think plainly and simply, and would talk serenely and freely about topics that most women have been trained either to avoid or conceal; and on the other she was unconscious, or else she had an air of being unconscious—that was the riddle—to all sorts of personal applications that almost any girl or woman, one might have thought, would have made. The door to the library burst open. She had fallen asleep.
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