To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. ‘Good. Her little white hand stole across the table. ” There was a long silence. Wiped out, but for these. Stay where you are, Mr. " "You are right," replied Darrell; "the weakness is past. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes.
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