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. I wanted to talk to you before when you first came to live here two years ago, but I never did. Ramage controlled his expression and thought very quickly. I have very few friends in Paris. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. He waited the pleasure of Monsieur. "My child!" he groaned faintly. Lucy treaded down two steps, stunned. He pulled away. He's a cutie. He was an officer, and a person of very great sense, and altogether a desirable parti.
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