"I've a good mind not to speak to you again, Sir!" cried Winifred, with difficulty repressing a tear of vexation; "you've acted unfairly. I hid because there was no other way of seeing you. Her teeth were chattering so hard that she had to clench them for fear of biting off her own tongue. Come, make yourself scarce. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him. ‘It is all too probable that she would wish to change into lay clothing to escape recognition.
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