A dressing-room then. " "In whose favour is it made?" he inquired, sternly. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes. ” “No, mine. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. “Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power.
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