" "Who are you!" demanded the fugitive, sternly. "I'll not believe it. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Her tears dissipated as she began to convulse, completely devoid of any spare fluid. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. Catch him, she begged silently. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild.
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