Shall I lend it to you again, to plunge in your heart, poor Simon ?" "I don't understand you.

I have no need of a dagger," I answered stiffly; yet, feeling a fool there in the passage, I followed her into the room.
"Your heart is pierced already ?" she asked.

"Ah, but your heart heals well! I'll spend no pity on you." There was now a new tone in her voice.

Her eyes still sparkled in mischievous exultation that she had proved right and I come away sore and baffled.

But when she spoke of the healing of my heart, there was an echo of sadness; the hinting of some smothered sorrow seemed to be struggling with her mirth.