" "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. " "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew. Then he threw the letter at me. He pushed her small hand into his jeans. ’ She had given nothing away. " "Can't we break it off?" replied Mrs. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. Presently he resumed: “I believe I must be in love. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse.
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