Wood turned to look at him. “Very much as usual,” said Ramage. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. To many in that crowded solitude it came as an extraordinary relief. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert. “You poor little girl!” he cried. " "Miscreants!" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league with him.
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