She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. . Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. I die happy—quite happy in beholding you. ‘But I do not pay this penalty. " Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor creature swallowed it without hesitation. She stared at his pleading face. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. The ruffian's companions took his part.
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