. She drew a chair to the window and stared at the splendour of the tropical night. Warm life was behind that always, even if it slept. "If you've done wrong, confess it, and I'll forgive you!" "I don't deserve to be forgiven!" returned Jack, bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very wrong. To-night she had a curious feeling that she stood upon the threshold of some change. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. EPOCH THE THIRD. .
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