The motor swung around a corner and into a throbbing thoroughfare down the long, crowded course of which was pictured in an almost perpetual perspective panorama the rushing torrent, the back-wash, the undertow, the placid pools and the spectators upon the banks of the gigantic river of human endeavor. Through the cinema of John Gallant's mind there swept a thought that here was presented a prophecy and a promise. Hand in hand they would meet whatever the coming days might bring--toil, failure, happiness, success. Love was the magic wand that made them all as one. Steadily he clasped her warm, trusting fingers as they nestled in his palm. "We are starting down our Spring street, Mi Primavera," he said. And as she looked up into his ardent eyes he knew that all his fondest dreams were coming true. THE END.