She had never thought of him at all in that way before. . So he shut his eyes. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. She shook her head. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. He would have to probe further. He sat back in an easy chair with a hand upon each of the elbows, and looked steadfastly into the fire. Little by little, she stopped hating him. I am afraid because I love you, so that the mere thought of failure hurts. Then she looked up the sweep of pine-trees to the towering sunlit cliffs and the high heaven above and then back to his face.
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