"Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. They then clambered over a hedge, and scaling another wall, got into the garden at the back of the house. She made a few protests, a few excuses for her action in accepting him, a few lame explanations, but he did not heed them or care for them. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. “How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. . ‘Do you know, Mademoiselle Charvill, you are a thought too clever for your own good.
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