"No, 'faith," he replied, hastily, and shaking back his head with an alarmed air, as if he already felt the cold steel, "do not dream of such a thing. Cut it off indeed!" and he slowly passed his fingers through his raven hair, in the glossy and luxuriant beauty of which he took a certain complacency.
"Well!" said Kate, leaning back in her chair, folding her hands on her knees, and drawing in a long breath.
"Well, what?" coolly asked Cornelius.
"I never did see such a rainy night—never."
"How kind of you to come!" observed Cornelius, bending forward to look at
Miriam.
She sat by the table, her arms crossed upon it, her eyes bent on us; she smiled without answering.
"You look pale and fatigued," he said, with some concern.
There was indeed on her face a strange expression of languor, weariness, and ennui.
"Yes," she replied abstractedly, "I am weary."
"I am not going to stand that, you know!" exclaimed Kate, whose attention was not diverted from me. "Will you just tell me, Daisy, or rather you, Cornelius, what has passed between you and Daisy since I left the room."