He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. She rode him gently. He was standing up with the telegram crumpled in his hand. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. Then she glanced at the cards again, over which her aunt’s many-ringed hand played, and then at the rather weak, rather plump face that surveyed its operations. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. . Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me. Every day in the year you will witness such scenes.
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