" "I hope such a thing never will happen again, my dear," observed Wood, mildly, "but, when it does, it will be time to consider what course we ought to pursue. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. For fifteen years!—so long as I can remember! All I wanted was a little love, a caress now and then. . They exchanged greetings with the clarinetist. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force.
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