“Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. ’ A gleam of rare humour slid into Charvill’s chest. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. I can assure you, I wouldn’t be single again for worlds. ” Miss Stanley turned to her. Not a word was uttered by the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. "To—to—no matter what," returned the widow distractedly. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. ” They went on for a time without another word.
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