The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. " "Piano-player? Do you mean someone who plays for you?" "No, no; one of those mechanical things you play with your feet. ’ Footsteps sounded just outside, and Captain Roding walked in. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. Ain't he, Madam?'" "He is, indeed," replied the widow, fervently; "more—much more than that. . " "Go with him to Tyburn,—never lose sight of him till the noose is tied. "He shan't trouble you further. " "How had he offended you?" inquired the widow.
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