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. CHAPTER XXX. . 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. Thames returned no answer. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. All his dreams shattered in an instant. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. And it is not at all his affair. This isn’t the place. ‘Speak, then. Journeying blindly half way across the world, this man had found his quarry. "Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?" vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time.
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