One-eighth, triumph.

One-eighth, amusement.
One-sixteenth, pride.

One-sixteenth, shame.

One-sixteenth, desire to confess.

One-sixteenth, determination to conceal.
And all these delicate, complex emotions played together in a circle of arching eyebrow, curving lip, and tremulous chin,--played together, mingling and melting into one another like fire and snow; bewildering, mystifying, enchanting the beholder! If Ronald Macdonald did--I am a woman, but, for one, I can hardly blame him!.