The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. He was a young man of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression of cunning pervading his countenance. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. You have neither reason nor logic. ’ ‘You may not get the chance. Here were the passionate lovers! What their past had been he neither cared nor craved to know.
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