You will be free to remarry, of course. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. I knew it. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. There was another little thing he had to say. It must be the dawn creeping in. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. Wood is now in very affluent circumstances. " "Devil take the key!" ejaculated Wood. “Let me see,” she said to herself, trying to control a slight sinking of the heart, “I am going to take a room in a lodging-house because that is cheaper. Spit of your mother. You don’t have to have a lot of money to have your own style.
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