Abruptly would come the end. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a child's violin. “Now I should like to know,” she said, looking at him with a quiet smile, “what you are doing here? It is not a particularly inspiring neighbourhood for walking about by yourself. And the opportunity to share in your exciting adventures was just too tempting to be put aside. "Oh! they are—are they?" muttered Jack, triumphantly; "that'll do. We leave this room together.
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