"Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. The world is like a peppery horse. And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. She had black hair, fine eyebrows, and a clear complexion; and the forces that had modelled her features had loved and lingered at their work and made them subtle and fine.
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