You must forgive the poet’s license I take. Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. ” “Of course not,” said Ramage, as one who rouses himself from deep preoccupations And he began to question her in a business-like way upon the steps she had taken and the inquiries she had made.
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