” His voice rose and fell amidst the music and the singing of Tristan and King Mark, like a voice heard in a badly connected telephone. “Cheveney!” she repeated. It was a serene and charming evening, and twilight was gently stealing over the face of the country. These were seated in an imperfect semicircle about a very copper-adorned fireplace, surmounted by a carved wood inscription: “DO IT NOW. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. . “She will take her risk,” she answered. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew.
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