Her disapproval was obvious enough. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. She would often steal away to tryst with him in the orchard, even now she felt her loins grow warm with the memory of his ardor. Brendon and I are great chums,” he went on nervously. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. ‘We were wondering about that. She did not have to investigate that his door was locked. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about.
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