--Behave yourself! cried Heron, cutting at Stephen's legs with his cane. The thought slid like a cold shining rapier into his tender flesh: confession. " "Ah, then, is THAT what you've stayed over for?" He spoke with a gaiety through which I could still catch the finest little quiver of resentful passion; but I can't begin to express the effect upon me of an implication of surrender even so faint. While he did so he sang softly to himself with quaint accent and phrasing: 'Tis youth and folly Makes young men marry, So here, my love, I'll No longer stay.
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