And I think I will indeed blow off your imbecile head. "By all means," rejoined Quilt. The night was now advancing, and the party began to think of separating. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. *** Gerald vaguely noted that his junior leapt to his feet at sight of his former commander, and that Lucilla sat with her mouth at half-cock, dread in her face. The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. The service began.
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