It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. Do not believe it, Madam. "And now, farewell, Mr. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. Why do you look so sad?” She opened her eyes wider and stifled her emotions. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. ” “It astonishes me that I don’t,” said Manning, in a tone of intense selfenjoyment. I don’t want to Bowdlerize Shakespeare. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. There was a photo of her that looked exactly like you. He felt he had raised a storm which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to allay. . "You have betrayed me," said he, in a deep whisper, to his companion; "but you shall reap the reward of your treachery. His friendship seemed a thing worth having.
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