It isn't your duty. YOU did. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. . The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. " "Not your only chance, Thames," returned Jack, in the same undertone; "but your best. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon.
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