The Atlantic Monthly — Roger Pierce
“ Of Violet Channing he saw no more; with her his sole earthly redemption had fled; she went her way, free henceforward from the Shadow, and guarded in the arms of the shining Spirit.The wind yet howls and dashes without; the rain, rushing in gusts on roof and casement, keeps no time nor tune; the fire is dead in the ashes; the red rose, in the lessening light, turns gray;--but far away to the south the cloud begins to scatter; faint amber steals along the crest of the distant hills; after all evils, hope remains,--even for a Man with two Shadows. ”
