Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. There were the burnt papers still in the grate. And by degrees, perhaps, that maiden distrust of yours that makes you shrink from my kisses, will vanish. The chapel was again crowded with visitors, and every eye—even that of Jonathan Wild who had come thither to deride him,—was fixed upon him. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. She staggered to the fireplace and thrust it into the heart of the dying flames.
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