" "How soon do you expect Mishter Vudd?" inquired the janizary, tauntingly. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. "I can't say I did," replied Wood, somewhat reluctantly; "what with the confusion incident to the storm, and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it was too late. Norris says she's dying. ’ ‘Why not?’ Gerald asked straightly. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. They cleaned up the mess as best they could and she went home with him docilely. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
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