The ragged edge. 9. For a long time neither spoke again. We already had a place to mislay blame. ” She propped herself up on the massive oaken post of the bed, feeling the paralysis tingle her legs as it left them ever so slowly. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. ’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. He got off at Canal, and she exited behind the crowd. She stared. Dare we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagination retrace the path we have trod? With how many vain hopes is it shaded! with how many good resolutions, never fulfilled, is it paved! Where are the dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us—the passions that consumed us then? Has our success in life been commensurate with our own desires—with the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we not blighted in heart, as in ambition? Has not the loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from us by the cold hand of death? Is not the goal, towards which we pressed, further off than ever—the prospect before us cheerless as the blank behind?—Enough of this. “Well, you know. “No,” said Ann Veronica, “but I want to know.
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