She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. All I can say is, it's well meant; and I may add, I'd have made it five minutes ago, if you'd given me the opportunity. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. She could not realize what she saw. ” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. Have you seen much of her lately?” “Nothing at all,” he answered. ‘I’ve had enough of this.
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