"It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. "You base ingrate," she added, in a whisper, as she flounced past Mr. He continued tenderly, almost affectionately. At a sign from Ah Cum, official custodian of the sightseers, the polechair coolies pressed toward the left and halted. I sang to him, and he was satisfied.
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