" "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. "I assure you, Sir, when I left him an hour ago, it was locked. “Why would she do that? Why does she care? That’s a waste of her time. He impetuously grasped a hold of her hand, looking for a callous. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow.
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