Wood's house was broken into and plundered. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. Jack Kimble nodded eagerly. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. McClintock, striking a match to relight his cigar, broke the spell. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. “In Paris. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom.
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