The Black Alionora

Her hair was black as night, and worked up to either side of her head into a golden filigree crown beaded with shining pearls. To whisper gentle things into her ear was but like dropping a tone into some deep well. The ripples on the dark, sullen water were not more cold, silent, intangible than her responsive smile. She was too proud even to frown that disdainful english peeress. But instead, at slight or negligence, she would turn those unwavering eyes of hers upon the luckless wigt. Ah, so enthralled was i by the black alionora that my host had to pluck me by the sleeve ere he whispered to