The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. "Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?" cried David in astonishment. She walked with an easy quickness down the Avenue and through the proletarian portion of Morningside Park, and crossing these fields came into a pretty overhung lane that led toward Caddington and the Downs. “Women are mocked,” she said. “Won’t you sit down,” she said, “and tell me what you want to say?” Her voice was flat and faint. CHAPTER XV. “We can,” he said, “and we will. Wood entered the room, followed by Thames.
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