Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Strange, demure-looking young woman, with wonderful complexion and eyes, and a style about her, too. " "I have a question to propose to you," said Trenchard, "relating to—" and he hesitated. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. . She liked the high, easy swing of the thing over its big wheels, the quick clatter-patter of the horse, the passage of the teeming streets. She was radiant. She removed it. Wild on his guard against an assassin. I did not wish to be hounded by her family and a bunch of other scientific desperados for the rest of the millennia, did you?” “Then come live with me again, it is safer.
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