I am dreadfully sad. I trust you will not accuse me of discourtesy if I express my pleasure that henceforth our ways will lie apart. It’s not you—not a bit. ” “Bring her—here,” Hill muttered. And I heard ‘Alcide’ sing, and that little dance she did. “I know,” she said quietly, “that Paris, where she has been so much admired, is not a good place for her. I felt somehow I’d hurt you. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. Hadn’t the stomach to admit the truth, had he? I’ll lay any money he labelled you with some foul French name as well.
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