It is written, the last line. Perhaps the last line I shall ever write for print. Think kindly of me, won’t you? and let my book have a nice place in your library. I can promise you that it will be a nicer cover than the last. No grinning policeman this time, with his arm round my waist. This will be a book that I can give to my husband, and be proud of, and write his name inside—
“To my dear Harry.
From his loving wife, the Authoress.”
THE END.
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
