” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers. She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. Show him no quarter, Poll. I know nothing about the girl, save what you have told me. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller's view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial,—and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. She might even forgive him. Stanley poured wine. I have given up painting. “You will have some tea?” she asked. At second hand it would be unendurable.
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