To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. Twelve years ago! It is an awful retrospect. " "On the contrary," rejoined Smith, looking askance at his companion, "I happen to know you're in the right. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. ” “Damn!” he remarked at the defaced letter; and, taking a fresh sheet, he recopied what he had written.
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