" "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets. Spurling. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife. ” She acted calm, but could not help being offended. ’ She paused, holding her nurse’s eyes. " "Let me have them.
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