His conscience never told him to go back and take his punishment; it tortured him only in regard to the deed itself. Wood heard the cry. I must apologize, I suppose, for speaking to you, but your appearance certainly indicated that you were in some sort of trouble, and you were becoming—pardon me—an object of comment to the passers-by. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. Pull yourself together now. She did not forge a note.
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