" "I am sorry. 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. No doubt that was due to his helplessness. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. “The walk has given me an appetite, and I do not feel like waiting till five o’clock. He could not tell whether she was English or American. It wouldn’t be you. Because of the Dance. 133 “TRY ME!” He yelled, his voice booming into the cacophony beyond the walls.
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