To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. ” She took his hand and smiled upon him. There was just a minute’s hesitation before they gave her a room. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. Rushing towards the entrance of the well-hole, Blueskin touched the secret spring. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. A traffic of copious barges slumbered over the face of the river-barges either altogether stagnant or dreaming along in the wake of fussy tugs; and above circled, urbanely voracious, the London seagulls.
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