She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. His tone was rough, almost threatening. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. "Go on. ’ ‘Must we talk of it? I’m trying to forget it. Wood; "that's the surest way!" "No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatching the pistol, and rushing to the door, against which he placed his back. Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees.
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