‘He’d have been that happy if he’d known how you’re the spit of her, miss. "I understand," she said. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. I do not know anything of him since I have fourteen years, and that he sent me to Blaye to be a nun. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips. “It’s because I mean to send it back altogether,” she said.
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