Only brains and a soul, and he 's sold them at a high figure,--threw his heart in,--the purchaser being a lady.

It was light, I fancy,--starved out, long ago." The old man's words were spurted out in the bitterness of scorn.

The girl listened with a cool incredulity in her eyes, and went back to her work.
"Miss Herne is the lady,--my partner's daughter.

Herne and Holmes they'll call the firm.

He is here every day, counting future profit." Nothing could be read on the face; so he left her, cursing, as he went, men who put themselves up at auction,--worse than Orleans slaves.
Margret laughed to herself at his passion; as for the story he hinted, it was absurd.