I can’t help you a cent. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. Perhaps these few words were the first real conscious words he had uttered in days. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. ” “Go ahead. But there was a face pressed to the glass. ” She paused. “Tell me,” he said; “speak to me. You intrigue me. In any event, I explained that no one lived here and that we’d been called in because of suspected intruders. "What have you got there in your breast—a stone? Is there blood or water in your veins?" The dam broke, but not with violence.
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