“MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. ” She appraised him. "Oh, yes!—for always!" He took her hands and pressed them upon his thrumming heart; and in this attitude they remained for some time. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. ” “But Italy—” “Italy’s for a good girl,” he said, and laid his hand for a moment on her shoulder. ‘What now?’ ‘Now,’ she answered flatly, ‘you will please to tell me at once why you have come here. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient.
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