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 wholesome terror of those apparently unseeing eyes.

At last the sloppy one, having done over and over again the things which in an ordinary way he would never have dreamt of doing, slopped off, a much more intelligent look on his rusty face than one would have credited him with possessing.

“Confound the fellow!” said Perseus. “I thought he would never go.”

“He certainly has grown most attentive,” she admitted.

He came round to her and caught her in his arms.

“I love you, Andromeda.”

She felt the hand on her shoulder tremble, and her whole body answered with a responsive throb. She did not speak, but she turned her face up to him and threw her arms about his neck. He kissed her brow, her eyes, her mouth.

“Now, go and sit down like a good boy. What would Ganymedes say if he were to enter suddenly?”

He muttered something not wholly complimentary to that personage; nevertheless, he obeyed. But the glance which she shot across