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You have to come over to my house. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. “You’ve interested me enormously. Wood. But luncheon and dinners you will sit at my table. " "Won't you go?" cried Jack passionately. " "Not now, my love—not now," entreated Wood. If you don’t think it would be a social outrage, perhaps I might walk with you to your railway station. My motive in coming hither is to serve you, and save your life. Now lend me your own hand. Sheila’s boys hadn’t been much help when they were around the house, anyway, they were more partial to lolling around on couches and running around with their girls.
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