She made a slow tour of the front of the house without success, and then started back along the rooms behind, dragging open the drapes each time to get just enough light to recognise what was on the walls. ” “Don’t tempt me,” she said, laughing, and drawing her opera-cloak together. It was a night of storm and terror, which promised each moment to become more stormy and more terrible. Vite, I pray you. It is not possible for us to be on friendly terms with a young man who has been seen in a public place, having supper alone with your sister after midnight. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul.
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