I came to see you on my own account. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. ” “I know,” said Mr Manning, “I know these Dreadful Statistics. He carried her in his arms up the steps, like a bride on her honeymoon. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. They would arrest him for the French spy they had thought her at first. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding.
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