And he watched until she got safely into the house without discovery, and then he went back satisfied and proud.
Of course August died, and Julia devoted herself to philanthropic labors.

It is the fashion now for novels to end thus sadly, and you would not have me be out of the fashion.
But August did not die.

Joy is a better stimulant than wine.

Love is the best tonic in the pharmacopeia.

And from the hour in which August Wehle looked into the eyes of Julia, the tide of life set back again.