“I’ve been following you for many years. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. My boys buy them with beads or bolts of calico of mine. He looked the boy over with interest. As he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to comprehend. My birthday was on May first. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. He knew that at this moment Ruth lay upon her bed in torment, for she was by nature tender; and the reaction of her scathing words, no matter how justifiable, would be putting scars on her soul. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter.
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