Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. “Well anyhow—I don’t see the force of your objection, you know. It’s the poor dears who do, who know they will, know they can’t keep it up, who need to clutch at way-side flowers. Her mouth lolled open and drool seeped down one corner. " "I don't wonder at it," rejoined Gay.
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