He was safe, out of the beaten track, at last really comparable to the needle in the haystack. C. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. It’s these damned novels. The quarry had passed out into the open sea. “At a boarding-house?” he gasped. ” Anna shook her head.
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