A dressing-room then. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. They will claim particular attention hereafter. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. “I heard the other day that she’d been taken in by some cad of a fellow who was cutting a great dash in Paris, personating Meysey Hill, the great railway man. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong.
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