“I should like you to come here,” she said. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. Ramage, and might describe the affair to him, she cried “Oh!” with renewed vexation, and repeated some steps of her dance in a new and more ecstatic measure. ’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. ” “All right. It was horrible, but what could she do? She meant to live her own life, and he meant, with contempt and insults, to prevent her.
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