Spurlock's vision was oddly of the past. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. . Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. " Animated by this trifling success, he proceeded with fresh ardour, and the rapidity of his progress was proclaimed by the heap of bricks, stones, and mortar which before long covered the floor. Kneebone and Mr. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. You know—I worship you. At present the world waits for that writer, and the confused record of the newspapers remains the only resource of the curious.
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