Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. Finding all attempts at conversation with his companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic structure standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. “Why did you ever let me love you? Why did you ever let me peep through the gates of Paradise? Oh! my God! I don’t begin to feel and realize this yet. Love-making at first hand is dull enough. Of all the entirely English women I know, you’re the only one with a French accent. “Okay. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. . “Ann Veronica,” he said. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired.
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