"Horrid place at this time of year. I am counting the days until I start for Germany."
Here one of Langley's dishevelled friends, from some change in the surrounding group (for the rooms were now almost crowded), suddenly stepped back, and in so doing, trod on Miss Vernon's dress; he begged pardon with much empressement, in a manner which bespoke him to be no common man; he was pale, thin and foreign-looking, with deep sunk, flashing eyes, wild hair, and an unsteady expression of countenance.
"I am always doing these sort of things, and have vowed a hundred times never to brave the dangers of a soirée again; but," he shrugged his shoulders.
"Passato l'pericolo gabbato l'santo," said Kate, gaily and archly; judging from his air and manner, that this scrap of poor Winter's lore would be understood.
"La Signorina parla l'Italiano," he exclaimed, joyously.
"So little that I dare not venture to begin a conversation in it," she replied, as she did not consider it impossible to speak to a stranger without a formal introduction.
"Yet you pronounce it correctly," said the wild looking man.
"You think so?"