She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. The soil was identical, the climate; still, they would not bear the Olympian fruit, with its purple-lined jacket and its snow-white pulp. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Corporation. ‘Yes, miss. The job is easy. Almost worthy of your own fertile imagination. The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. . E. You were pointed out to me at—a few nights ago.
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