For no story really ends sadly for the very good reason that it can't.
For Love is Love, and in the end end of all Love must win.
So after we have finished our bit of the Story, and our friends have read it, and scribbled on the blank space at the bottom,
THE END:
HE WAS A SINNER—
And after they have whispered about us in public, and the ladies have gone behind their handkerchieves, and said,
"We must hope for the best, and expect the worst," and the men have yawned and said,
"Ah, well—De mortuis nil nisi bonum," which means—"He was the Devil's darling from his youth up, and I always told you so."
We need not mind so very much; for it may be that we have done better than we thought; and it is certain that while the world knows nothing of our aim, of our failure it knows more than all.
Moreover let us remember to our comfort that after that dead
END,