" "Be it so," replied the knight, who saw the force of this reasoning. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. She had even played in an opera by Verdi once, but had to dress as a boy to do it. Each became frightfully aware of the other as a plastic energetic body, of the strong muscles of neck against cheek, of hands gripping shoulder-blade and waist. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. Manning, “I know. That would be him. I’M shaken. He sounds to me like a soldier of fortune.
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