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235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. CHAPTER XIV. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. He fancied that when they had had time to reflect, they would regret it still more. And what was singular she did not recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. He's nice. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. Did he see him, this Monsieur Charvill?’ ‘I don’t rightly know, miss,’ confessed Kimble.
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