F. I heard rumours of it in Paris, and the place since then has been closed. She gazed steadily out of the window at that arc of glittering lights. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. ’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. . . 6. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind. .
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