"By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear. He jumps the words out of your mouth; he takes hold of what you have to say before you have had time to express it properly. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her.
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