The sphere in which his glory should be fulfilled was as yet hidden in the mists of time.
But this morning, instead of roving over the illustrious gallery, his eye caught and was fascinated by a single portrait.

He stood staring at it for a long time, lost in the thrill of thought.
At last Jane touched his arm.

"What are you looking at ?" He pointed.

"Do you see that ?" "Yes.

It's--" She named an eminent actor, then in the heyday of his fame, of whom legend hath it that his photographs were bought in thousands by love-lorn maidens who slept with them beneath their pillows.
Paul drew her away from the little knot of idlers clustered round the window.