And next morning she attired herself with especial care and neatness, found his address in the Directory at a post-office, and went to him. There were cakes and sandwiches—for Ennison a sort of Elysian feast, long to be remembered. ” The man made no attempt to recover the revolver. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. A pretty piece. "Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, "I have not many minutes to live.
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