F. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. “No, that’s fine. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. . No, none at all. From a bi-secting street came shouting and music. “You wish me to stay?” he asked, in a low tone. ‘But do you not see that he will come again? I think it is better if you, both of you, go and leave me here to find—’ She broke off, looking away. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her.
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