Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples, for I am sick of love. . She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. Come now, I am very glad to see you again so soon, mademoiselle whatever-your-name-is. The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished. CHAPTER IX. "You speak English better than I do," said O'Higgins, as the coolies jogged across the bridge toward the gate.
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