Annabel! Annabel!” His voice became a shriek. "Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly. You have converted me to—Lester Ward! You are my dear friend, you are a slip of a girl, but there are moments when my head has been on your breast, when your heart has been beating close to my ears, when I have known you for the goddess, when I have wished myself your slave, when I have wished that you could kill me for the joy of being killed by you. But before the child could be committed to her care, it was wrested from the carpenter by Rowland. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband.
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