Ruth was something to study for future copy; she was almost unbelievable. Just as he completed this operation, the file broke. There was a tearing sound as the canvas gave way, and the precious portrait ripped apart as the top of the Frenchman’s head came through it. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror. " "Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood, with a laugh. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. Nor had Jack been idle all this time. " CHAPTER IX.
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