"Well, gentlemen," rejoined Wood, mildly; "since Mr. “She’s my wife,” the man muttered. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. Unless women are never to be free, never to be even respected, there must be a generation of martyrs. “Come in. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. Though meant to produce a totally different effect, the narrative seemed to excite the risible propensities rather than the commiseration of his auditor; and when Mr. Her eyes were soft and grave, and there was the faintest of smiles upon her resolute lips. The period of repression was over. As he was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable impression on the feelings of the youthful offender.
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