’ ‘Gosse,’ corrected Lucilla. ” She paused. “There isn’t any way you could be worse than John. ’ ‘So I heard. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. Something in her tone made him look up. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. " "Never fear," replied Ben, gravely; "dead or alive I'll pay you, if I lose.
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