"Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. Gerald sighed. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none. You are your nephew's executioner, or he is yours. The distinction lay chiefly in the right to pat their heads. She used to lock Jordan and Josiah in the closet when they were toddlers. " Further remonstrance, however, was cut short by the sudden entrance of Mrs. But, egad! I believe he will. Now I shall never hear it but what this evening will come pouring back over me. ” She felt humiliated. “Not only that,” he answered. ” To which the only possible reply seemed to be, “I’m not coming home.
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