" "I'll ring for one," replied Kneebone, rising accordingly; "but I fear my servants are gone to bed. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. The ruffian's companions took his part. He was vaguely uneasy; he knew not what about. This was good. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. Did he not look for her in the morning when she entered—come very quickly to her? She thought of him as she had last seen him looking down the length of the laboratory to see her go. Go off and live together—until we can marry. The longing to talk to someone! But in the end she had gone to her room without giving in to the craving.
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