Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. She rested her head upon his shoulder. Gerald noted the lady’s eyes brighten as she caught sight of him making his way through the throng towards her. All that was needed to complete the simile was that the girl should burst into song. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. “I am afraid,” he said to Anna afterwards, “that it was a mistake to order the champagne sec. ” She shook her head. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains.
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