" CHAPTER V. “I—I am sorry—I didn’t explain. The latter walked carelessly towards the hatch, and leaning his back against the place whence the spike had been removed, so as completely to hide it, continued smoking his pipe as coolly as if nothing had happened. You will torture yourself and torture her all through life; but in the end she will pour the wine of her faith into a sound chalice. McClintock will be tuning up the piano to-day. I—I am a lovesick idiot, and not accountable for my actions. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. He called a waiter. I always told you some accident would happen.
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