“See you to-night, I suppose?” He sauntered off. ” There was a moment’s silence. Perhaps you will meet him someday. . ‘I suppose he isn’t this Leonardo you spoke of?’ ‘Certainly he is not Leonardo. His own heart was too full of melancholy foreboding. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done. Her little bedsitting-room was like a lair, and she went out from it into this vast, dun world, with its smoke-gray houses, its glaring streets of shops, its dark streets of homes, its orange-lit windows, under skies of dull copper or muddy gray or black, much as an animal goes out to seek food. There was a hint of tears in her voice. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. I struck him across the face, jumped out and went back by train to Paris.
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