It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. To be alone with her, in idleness, was an intolerable thought. “I might return the compliment, Courtlaw,” he answered, “by asking why the devil you come lurching on to the pavement like a drunken man. You know how stubborn they get. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. "I know the house well; by the same token that it's a flash crib.
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