Brendon felt his arm seized. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. The novel danger of the situation enthralled him. "When is he to suffer?" she demanded, fixing her large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam, upon him. Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. “What do you mean?” Lucy asked. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. The place pulsed with music too loud to converse above. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. Then light footsteps became audible, descending the staircase with a certain deliberation and a faint rustle of skirts.
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