"They left word that their things were to be packed and sent after them to an address they would give."
"And you do not know where they have gone?"
"I know nothing, nothing, only that they are gone.
"'Then tell, oh tell! how thou didst murder me?'
Oh! oh!! oh!!!"
"You never heard them speak of their plans, mention any place they intended to move to on leaving Florence?"
"Never!"
"It is too late for Rome," says Jim musingly; "England? I hardly think England," recalling Elizabeth's forlorn admission made to him at Monte Senario, "Why should we go home? We have nothing pleasant to go to."
"I do not think they had any plans," says Byng, speaking in a voice which is thick with much weeping; "they never seemed to me to have any. She was so happy here, so gay, there never was anything more lovely than her gaiety, except—except—her tenderness."
"Yes, yes, no doubt. Then you are absolutely without a clue?"