"What do you want?" he asked, in a gruff voice. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. ’ Departed? ‘Tchah! I suppose the vicomte threw him out?’ Watching the fellow’s face, Everett felt his suspicion growing. “That’s enough, Michelle!” Diane snapped in the ugly raised voice of the enforcer. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same. He was always anticipating, stepping into the future, torturing himself with non-existent troubles. She wanted to know. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation.
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