’ ‘Like this?’ ‘Parfait. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. I do swear. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards. Then he stepped briskly to his feet and bent over the wounded man.
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