“Absolutely,” the doctor answered, “and the sooner the better. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. He—” “Here they are!” said Ann Veronica as the bell sounded. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. “One would think I had said nothing about the matter. Escape was now impossible. And a time will come, Veronica, mark my words, a time will come when you will bless me for my firmness to-night. When the twins had first come to live in the 208 house, they were thin and bony, their tiny mouths crying for food.
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