“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. What was the objection? She found it impossible to look her own diffidence in the face. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. “Who did you live with before the Becks? I hear things. F. It might be dangerous to thwart him. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. . . Besides, revenge is sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the passion to rob it of any of its zest. ’ There was a kind of aching hunger in Gerald’s gaze.
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