"Is it that you are interested in the ravings of delirium, and welcomed the opportunity of observing them at first hand?
I hope I raved engagingly, if so be that I did rave.

Would it, perchance, be of a lady that I talked in my fevered wanderings ?--of a lady pale as a lenten rose, with soft brown eyes, and lips that--" "Your guesses are all wild," she checked him.

"My debt is of a more real kind.

It concerns my--my reputation." "Fan me, ye winds!" he ejaculated.
"Those fine ladies and gentlemen of the town had made my name a by-word," she explained in a low, tense voice, her eyelids lowered.

"My foolishness in running off with my Lord Rotherby--that I might at all cost escape the tyranny of my Lady Ostermore" (Mr.Caryll's eyelids flickered suddenly at that explanation)--"had made me a butt and a jest and an object for slander.