"Bess wouldn't bear a rival. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. . . "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. It is very possible that he will ask you to tell him before witnesses how you received your wound. It was wonderful to think this thing had lived, had felt and suffered. "We shall be obliged to force it. She shattered the edifice he was building up of himself as a devoted lover, waiting only his chance to win her from a hopeless and consuming passion. ” She refused. “DON’T!” she said, and wrenched her wrist from his retaining hand. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail.
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