" "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. ’ ‘Parbleu, it is I who am the idiot?’ she scolded furiously, removing one hand and digging it into her sleeve. This time she feinted as his point came up to deflect her own, and disengaging, passed under and cut at his cheek. Women, she had been taught, who exposed the flesh of their bodies under the eyes of man were in a special catagory of the damned. Nine years ago, I worked in this very house—had a kind indulgent master, whom I robbed—twice robbed, at your instigation, villain; a mistress, whom you have murdered; a companion, whose friendship I have for ever forfeited; a mother, whose heart I have well-nigh broken. All the turnkeys were assembled. ” She looked at him quizzically.
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