"My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. But one day he came to me. ” “You have been to her?” he asked. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. He became a little more personal and intimate. ’ She simpered, and withdrew one hand so that she might smack his fingers playfully. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. And there, about Saas, are ice and snows again, and sometimes we will loiter among the rocks and trees about Saas or peep into Samuel Butler’s chapels, and sometimes we will climb up out of the way of the other people on to the glaciers and snow.
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