How do you like the story?” “Go on,” said Ann Veronica, a little hoarsely, “tell me all of it. Austin, who had been evidently schooled by Wild, maintained a profound silence on this head. I am grateful, indeed I am. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. ” Her answer was terse. “Nor am I now,” he answered. Mr. He’s out in Phoenix last I heard. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. He resolved to judge for himself. My death, probably. I loved her so much. "Well, gentlemen," rejoined Wood, mildly; "since Mr.
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