“I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. "I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. You can pull it over on everybody else, Lucy, but not on me. His clothes had evidently seen some service, and were plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. “No doubt about that, I fancy,” Meddoes answered lightly. On this fresh outburst of the storm, Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast, endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate. But she made a pretence of struggling a little, for it would be out of character for her not to do so and she did not want to arouse his suspicions. Lucy propped Michelle against a thick, knobby tree stump. .
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