" But the doctor softened the refusal by smiling. ’ ‘The tables, they are turned, I think,’ she returned. She wanted to turn him. “You have dyed your hair and darkened your eyebrows. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. ’ Lucilla gaped. I’m going to tell you things plainly.
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