the last supper

the last supper

and know her.'
'Yes, sir.'
'She's a rare one, is she not, Jane?'
'Yes, sir.'
'A strapper- a real strapper, Jane: big, brown, and buxom; with
hair just such as the ladies of Carthage must have had. Bless me!
there's Dent and Lynn in the stables! Go in by the shrubbery,
through that wicket.'
As I went one way, he went another, and I heard him in the yard,
saying cheerfully-
the last supper
PRESENTIMENTS are strange things! and so are sympathies; and so are
signs; and the three combined make one mystery to which humanity has
not yet found the key. I never laughed at presentiments in my life,
because I have had strange ones of my own. Sympathies, I believe,
exist (for instance, between far-distant, long-absent, wholly
estranged relatives asserting, notwithstanding their alienation, the
unity of the source to which each traces his origin) whose workings
baffle mortal comprehension. And signs, for aught we know, may be
but the sympathies of Nature with man. the last supper