So there is no escape. It was locked. I shall want you. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. Wild's busy. The elastic spirits of youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears had ceased to flow. He conveyed not only his sense of the extreme want of correctitude in their unsanctioned meetings, but also that, so far as he was concerned, this irregularity mattered not at all, that he had flung—and kept on flinging—such considerations to the wind. Pearls too! I mean it. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces.
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