Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. Both McCloskeys disappeared on the same night, without a single trace. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. Perhaps it was the recollection of those happy days. Gosse must now fight with his back to the altar, and a dais at his heels. The picturesque scoundrel had the true gift; and Spurlock was filled with pity at the thought of such genius gone to pot.
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