"He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. While he was dragged along in the manner just described, Thames looked around to ascertain, if possible, where he was; for he did not put entire faith in Jonathan's threat of sending him to the round-house, and apprehensive of something even worse than imprisonment. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. " "To be sure! Nothing entertains me so much.
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