The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. “See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair. This done, he let himself carefully down by it, and having only a few feet to drop, alighted in safety. "You are arrested for high treason," rejoined Wild, presenting a pistol at his head, while he drew forth a parchment,—"here is my warrant. It may be useful to you. We’re different. “The Annabel who lives here, who sings every night at the ‘Unusual’? They call her by your old name. Still unconscious of anything he did physically.
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