None of this by-play escaped Ruth, whose sense of humour needed no developing. "I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Her face expressed nothing. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Also he had said—laughing in that way with his eyes which made a flutter in her chest— that Prudence will find an Englishman to marry her. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper.
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