صفحة 247 من 896

The show being over, the flutter in the air became quite a little

storm, and the precious little bells went ringing downstairs.

There was soon but one person left of all the crowd, and he, with

his hat under his arm and his snuff-box in his hand, slowly

passed among the mirrors on his way out.

"I devote you," said this person, stopping at the last door on

his way, and turning in the direction of the sanctuary, "to the

Devil!"

With that, he shook the snuff from his fingers as if he had

shaken the dust from his feet, and quietly walked downstairs.