Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. The next moment he was by her side. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. He went over his interview with her again, their conversation at dinner-time. “Dare!” she said. . “Yes, I believe he is. . “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. " "Perhaps so," rejoined the stranger; "but I have others in reserve, not so generally known. You have said a thousand times that there was no shame in you. Now the sense of beauty was spreading to a multitude of hitherto unsuspected aspects of the world about her. END OF THE SECOND EPOCH.
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