"Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. She is the image of what I was like, and she has a better voice. " "Let me see it," cried Thames, snatching it from him. A pretty piece. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Her voice seemed to come from a long way off. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. ’ It was a wait of several minutes while Melusine chafed.
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