Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. Then she took her sister’s hand. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. Do you expect me, I wonder. " "Dear sister——" "I should die happy, if I could behold my child. Even in his fevered hours, so the girl had said, his tongue had not betrayed him. Before he even glanced at the man on the floor he stepped over to her side and took the poker from her. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. . Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. .
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