To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. Before Wood had time to inquire into the cause of this sound, his attention was diverted by a man, who rushed past the entry with the swiftness of desperation. McClintock says they can't get in there, or at least they never try it. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. The by now familiar dramatic sigh came. " "No; it is only—what shall I say?—troubled. “All the time he is shouting and muttering.
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