Spurlock slumped in his chair, weak and empty. I'm sorry. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. The intoxicating sense of novelty had given place to a more business-like mood. ” “Act two,” she continued.
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