" "I will—I will," replied Wood hastily. It had been his fevered imagination that had endued the garment with some extraordinary value. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. She had arranged for a supper of tea, a boiled egg, and some tinned peaches. Poor Ruth: for a father, a madman; for a husband—a thief! Spurlock rocked his body slightly. He kissed her deeply and hungrily. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. "What's to be done next?" cried Blueskin, returning to Rachel, who was standing with Edgeworth Bess near the door.
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