And the hunter home from the hill. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. “Everybody seems to have it now. '—'It's not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till every glass on it jingled; 'and I know a way as'll prevent it. The air was crisp and dry. His lovely black eyes softened until they became like languid as the night sky. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. " He stared at the agitated curtain; and slowly his chin sank until it touched his chest.
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