" "Iss, Massa Ireton," replied the black. "Red apples and snow!" she sent back at him, her face suddenly transfixed by some inner glory. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. This smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid look. The wound lay open for five seconds, and then closed neatly as if it had been stitched by invisible hands. Besides, it did not fit her well, which was why the loose wimple had slipped. The windows which were about nine feet from the floor, had no glass; but were secured by thick iron bars, and an oaken beam.
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