’ ‘So I see. And I am grateful to you. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Never mind. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. His voice when he spoke was almost fiercely assertive, but there was an undernote of nervousness. Are you sure what it is you want of me?” “I want you. You might trust me with the Chevalier himself,—I'd never betray him. She remembered the doctor's warning that the real battle would begin when the patient recovered consciousness.
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