’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. Good looks, with a melancholy cast, always drew sentimental females. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. ’ Disappointment flooded her. She ignored his question. Every window, from the groundfloor to the garret had its occupant, and the roofs were covered with spectators. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out.
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