” “May I be prepared?” Anna asked. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. “Oh. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. You say you have twenty-four hundred in your letter of credit. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. “You decline to help us in any way, then,” he said. Sebastian grabbed a rock from a corner and bashed in its skull. In a moment they were in the street outside. For a few minutes, she appeared scarcely sensible of his presence.
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