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" "Your's will be nearer the truth, and have a deeper moral, Mr. No, I thank you. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now. O'Higgins was to keep track of you until I believed you had had enough punishment. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. Hers were less noble, yet stately. Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. "How very like it is!" "Not so strange, surely," laughed Thames, "that a picture should resemble the person for whom it's intended. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression.
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