He then descended; and having induced Bess to take off some part of her clothing, he tore the gown and petticoat into shreds and twisted them into a sort of rope which he fastened to the lower bars of the window. ’ The lady sighed and spread her hands. He gripped the window-sill behind him. I spent this afternoon in detention. Would you stand by me—and her?” “My dear Nigel!” she exclaimed. “But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. Even her debt to him was a triviality now. ’ I don’t know what you’d call it —a sort of witchery, almost suggestiveness. "Where is he, then?" demanded the other, hastily.
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