But I’m going to-day. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. I shouldn't care to have attention constantly drawn to us. . “I wrote it for you. " "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. She could hardly speak to me; she insisted relentlessly upon a separation. “Nobody understands them, of course, but we all look as though we did. Good-bye, aunt. Mr. I've a couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples's care.
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