"Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November. Wood," she continued, with a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching the carpenter's arm, "promise it me. It is simply our point of view which is altogether different. . Indeed, it is rather a matter of whose death is close. ” But now she doubted again of the quality of the armistice they had just made. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. ” He replied. “After all, why should he be surprised?” she remarked. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. Never again to be alone! To fit herself into this man's life as a hand into a glove; to use all her skill to force him into the position of depending upon her utterly; to be the spark to the divine fire! He should have his book, even if it had to be written with her heart's blood.
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