Wood. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. " "Anything, my dear," replied Wood, "What is it?" "Bury us together in one grave in Willesden churchyard. " O'Higgins laughed.
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