The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. “I love you, Anna, and I want you for my wife. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. And I've already told you the accident was not Jack's fault. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. She had neither the semi-boisterousness of the average American girl nor the chilling insolence of the English. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. I'm trying to make you see the worldly point of view, which always inclines toward the evil side of things.
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