"The end is the most beautiful in English literature. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. " "Never," replied Winifred. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. " And before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth, and disclosed Shotbolt. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity.
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