By the things written of him, one would imagine the conversations going on behind the scenes.

She had the wiles of a Cleopatra, not without some of the Nilene's experiences.

A youthful Antony Dacier would be little likely to escape her toils.

And so promising a young man! The sigh, the tear for weeping over his destruction, almost fell, such vivid realizing of the prophesy appeared in its pathetic pronouncement.
This low rumour, or malaria, began blowing in the winter, and did not travel fast; for strangely, there was hardly a breath of it in the atmosphere of Dacier, none in Diana's.

It rose from groups not so rapidly and largely mixing, and less quick to kindle; whose crazy sincereness battened on the smallest morsel of fact and collected the fictitious by slow absorption.