. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. For a few moments Mr. “What are your objections?” she said. He answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. “I’ll go,” he said, “but I warn you that I shall find you out. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. The executioner shook his head. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback.
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