" "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. “Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. So I undertook to protect her by keeping love out of her life, by crushing it whenever it appeared, obliterating it. " "Then, most probably, it was the widow Sheppard," answered Blueskin, sulkily. “Annabel;” he moaned. " "Pshaw! you'd do as much for me any day, and think no more about it. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted.
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