Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. Only that I was prevented by one of those soldiers that caught me in the big house. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. I didn’t ought to have sent for him. “I’m not the Devil. .
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