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THE SEVERING OF THE HAIR.79up; a cloud of filmy lace fell back from thebeautiful round white arm. Then she droppedthe hand slowly, and yvaited for him to speak.He spoke yvith strange difficulty; the spell ofthe poyver of her beauty yvas upon him.was not what he had intended.ThisHe had meantto conquer, not to be conquered;to sway,not tobe ruled."I thought," he said, in a low tone, "youwould have come, because — I — Idid not knoyvyou yvould allow me thehappiness of cominghere."" Did younot? Ithink you don't understandme yet. Iwished to see you, you know, andIdid not wish to go out this evening. It is quitesimple,isit not?"" It is indeed,for such a woman asyou."She laughed.—"Is not that rather an awkward speechrather an equivocal compliment ?Hoyv posedvoulook!"She laughed again. Routh felt unspeakablyembarrassed; he had a sense of being at a disadvantage,yvhich was unpleasant. She saw it,and said: