Was Laura’s. She having mine, stepped in between,
And interchanged them.
R. I never saw it. Bravo!—most deftly done.
1951
F. ’Twas touch and go. That meddling devil, Tristram,
He must have told her of it.
Re-enter Laura.
L.The Countess, Frederick,
Bids me return the portrait. You may die
To look on it, she says,—here ’tis. (Giving her own.)