"And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just ridden by?" "No," answered Quilt, sullenly. “Where?” “To that ball. ’ ‘Where, then?’ Melusine asked again. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. She would be enduing this chap with attributes he did not possess, clothing him in fictional ruffles. Having secured this implement, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clockfaces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime,—that is, back foremost,— broke into a fit of loud and derisive laughter, kicking his heels merrily all the time against the boards. She shut the door behind her. But in a moment she believed she understood. . ‘Merci, dieu.
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