Her glasses moved quickly as her glance travelled from face to face. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. What!— you know so little of that child? She ran away from you. There is something sensual in the thought of lotus flowers. "Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command.
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