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Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. " Jack was about to comply; but not liking the man's manner, he walked on. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict.
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