She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. Wood. . . A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. “You will not object,” he said, glancing towards her, “to accepting a deposit. Wood, who had worked herself into a passion; "and, I'll warrant 'em, the boldest robber among 'em shall repent it, if he comes across me. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. CHAPTER III.
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