Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. He will be sorry when he knows who I am,’ decided Melusine with satisfaction. The sun was setting, casting long dreary shadows across deformed apple trees. “Cheveney!” she repeated. ” He took a quick step forward. .
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