" "But you will,—won't you?" she rejoined, looking him coaxingly in the face. "Hoddy, wake up!" She jerked his head to and fro until the hair stung. "You needn't gag me," he added, "I'll not cry out. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. " In spite of her displeasure, Winifred could not help smiling at the absurdity of this address.
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