"Let us pray that we may keep him alive.

But there are many kinds of firestuffs, O Maqueda, and of one of them which chances to give out violet flames I am not sure that my friend is master.

Yet in this country it may be the most dangerous of all." Now when she heard these words the Child of Kings looked me up and down angrily.

Then suddenly she laughed a little in a kind of silent way that is peculiar to her, and, without saying anything, beckoned to her ladies and left the place.
"Very variegated thing, woman, sir," remarked Quick, who was watching.
(I think he meant to say "variable.") "This one, for instance, comes up that passage like a tired horse--shuffle, shuffle, shuffle--for I could hear the heels of her slippers on the floor.

But now she goes out like a buck seeking its mate--head in air and hoof lifted.