No man knew whence she had come nor why. But when they were on their way out he whispered in Anna’s ear. “We are not going the right way,” she exclaimed. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. " "I'm a doctor. "What of that," rejoined Jonathan. If the Wastrel had not turned the instant he did, the ball would have missed him; as it was he turned directly into its path. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep. He was not particularly grateful for the present situation. As she did so the preparation-room door opened behind her.
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