” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. "We must change the subject," remarked Thornhill, pausing in his task; "this will never do. " After narrowly examining the countenance of the sitter, and motioning him with his pencil into a particular attitude, Sir James Thornhill commenced operations; and, while he rapidly transferred his lineaments to the canvass, engaged him in conversation, in the course of which he artfully contrived to draw him into a recital of his adventures.
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