“Quite alone, sir. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her, preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. . But his own ferocity was less now that she was disarmed. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. ‘Soldier of fortune. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. Salvation. ‘It were that there major, miss. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE. "Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning.
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