'Fanqua!' (regretful). And so on, through every conceivable tone of
expression.

But Fanqua did not move; and the officer and bystanders laughed.

She summoned all her talents, and uttered one last 'Fanqua!' which
was a triumph of art.

Shame and surprise were blended in her voice with tenderness and
pity, and they again with meek despair. To have been betrayed,
disgraced, and so unexpectedly, by one whom she loved, and must love
still, in spite of this, his fearful fall!

It was more than heart could bear. Breathing his name but that once
more, she stood a moment, like a queen of tragedy, one long arm
drawing her garments round her, the other outstretched, as if to
cast off--had she the heart to do it--the rebel; and then stalked
away into the darkness of the paddle-boxes--for ever and a day to
brood speechless over her great sorrow? Not in the least. To begin
chattering away to her acquaintances, as if no Fanqua existed in the
world.

It was a piece of admirable play-acting; and was meant to be. She
had been conscious all the while that she was an object of
attention--possibly of admiration--to a group of men; and she knew
what was right to be done and said under the circumstances, and did
it perfectly, even to the smallest change of voice. She was
doubtless quite sincere the whole time, and felt everything which
her voice expressed: but she felt it, because it was proper to feel