e leave, just as e. My uncles prints are mounted and bound: akes me to vie of treat.

    Fine work, hink, Maud? hmm?

    Yes, sir.

    Do you look?

    Yes, Uncle.

    Yes. Fine work. I believe I srey and  week?  do you say? S?

    I do not ansurns to Richard.

    Rivers, o come back, as a guest, rey?

    Richard bows, looks sorry. I fear, sir, I shall be occupied elsewhere.

    Unfortunate. You , Maud? Most unfortunate . . .

    t on  . Cs  of convulsion, and runs. My uncle also shen.

    Do you see, Rivers, torments to wc boy and whip him!

    I will, sir, says Mr ay.

    Ric me, and smiles. I do not smile back. And eps, akes my  quite nervelessly against urns to my uncle: Mr Lilly. Fareo you, sir!

    A rap is dra? S you like it, to o return to our solitary ways?

    e go back into tairs at my uncles side, as I once, as a girl, climbed tiles. imes, I ted times ruck t, t spot? rait goworn? uous words ly read?—lemen?

    tairs, tlemen, tle crescent I once picked out in t t covers try to imagine it, eyeless. I remember co gatself toget of t, / s I s I t Briar oo.— Or else, I , ial life beyond its walls.

    I t I s, monotonous g,

    -soled feet, to ttern of ancient carpets.

    But perer all, I am a g already. For I go to Sue and so take, to s s all  meeting my gaze; and I cs sakes up; feel tir of  of   s last so s only . e take our lunco my motare at tone, feeling notreaks of mud.

    I o Rico my uncle. t, t—t