She watched her friend rise and go towards her affianced husband, a look of mischief in her face. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. She closed her eyes more vividly to recall some line which had carried the blot. Tears flowed in rivulets down 121 her cheeks and she began to cry. "Do you see any likeness?" "Don't I," returned Jack, bitterly. In each pause she could sense his growing trepidation.
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