"I'm sorry," she said. "Concerning whom?" "Mrs. Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. . Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Her white shirt was ridiculously utilitarian, but fitted in all the right places, he smirked. “And this is Mr.
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