” “How the hell did you learn to play like that?” “Lots of practice, John. “Will he die?” she asked. Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. When anybody is natural, these days, we dub them queer. Presently he caught her puzzled glance, and recollected himself, turning on the charm again. " "Anything else, Sir?" "No:—stay! you'd better not bring up any silver forks or spoons.
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