ToC "At length this tragedy is at an end," said Mr. " "I should like to satisfy myself on that score," rejoined Wild, drily. In another instant, the collision took place. “It’s the spring,” he said. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. Ramage,” she said, clinging to her one point, “I want to get out of this horrible little room. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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