I also saw that you were dissatisfied with your attempts, for you tore out one leaf after another from your sketch-book and threw them away." "Did you find them again ?" asked Blanka, breathlessly.
"I made it a point to do so, Princess," was the reply.
"Oh, then give them back to me, please!" "Here they are." No creditor ever did his distressed debtor a greater favour in surrendering to him an overdue note than did Manasseh in restoring the lost leaves to their owner.

She replaced them carefully in her sketch-book, assuring herself, as she did so, that the missing address was on the blank side of one of them.

What if it had caught the young man's eye?
How would he have explained its presence there?
She sat down to rest a moment on the stone railing of the gallery, her back to the arena and her face toward Manasseh,--an arrangement that very much interfered with the artist's view of what he was painting.

The sun shone directly in her eyes, and she had no sunshade, having left hers in the carriage.

The arena was so shaded that she had needed none there.