Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty was by no means abated, glanced at the well-proportioned figure of the young man, and made him a very civil salutation. It's all your fault, you shaking coward! and, but that I feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw you into the well, too. ” She replied. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. Ramage stood up, and suddenly turned the key in the door in an off-hand manner. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish.
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