"Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. Perhaps that other boy who visited you backstage at the concert. “She wasn’t sane, my wife. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life. She pulled her veil down, and he knew that silence was best. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. Of course he hadn't played the game wisely. ‘I believe that. .
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