She stared. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. It was a mass of knick-knacks. "I'm an ungrateful dog!" "You will be if you don't instantly kiss me the way you used to. ‘Do not say such things, you—you imbecile. And, turning at the touch, he perceived Sheppard's glance fixed meaningly upon him. And she did not merely affect to be driven—she felt driven. Life! Life and love! It makes me want to be always young, always strong, always devoting my life—and dying splendidly.
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