He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. " "It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. And see!" he added, as the figures drew back, and the lights disappeared; "it's a false alarm. Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation. Kneebone's 346 XIV. People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others—never at their own! The droll dogs! how they must have enjoyed it!—ha! ha!" "I dare say they did.
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