Wood;—"Owen—Owen!—Thames, help!" "Coming!" cried Mr. ” He said curiously. Anna, in her strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. He reached over and took her hand.
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