But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. " "Why, what'll you do?" demanded the turnkey. "Here!" shrieked Lady Trafford. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment. One night, she drew close to him in bed, trying to warm herself by embracing his back. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. " "So did I," said Winifred. He will tell you confidentially that he simply hates the place.
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