Her hands were clasped, her chin raised just a trifle, and her gaze was rapt as that of some longing soul.

I could not guess of these things, being but a man, and, I fear, clumsy alike of body and wit.
[Illustration: "I want--" said she.

"I wish--I wish--" Page 287] "There is one thing, Madam, which we have omitted," said I at last.
"What are _my_ stakes?
How may I pay ?" She swayed a little on her feet, as though she were weak.

"I want," said she, "I wish--I wish--" The old childlike look of pathos came again.

I have never seen so sad a face.