"I should never be afraid of him," returns Mona. "He has kind eyes. He is"—slowly and meditatively—"very like you.",
Not that he himself is at all aware of the evil case into which he has fallen. He feels not the arrow in his heart, or the tender bands that slowly but surely are winding themselves around him,—steel bands, decked out and hidden by perfumed flowers. As yet he feels no pang; and, indeed, were any one to even hint at such a thing, he would have laughed aloud at the idea of his being what is commonly termed "in love.",
"No, no," she answered, trying to pull herself away..
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