Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. “Always planning for death. ‘What do you want with me? Why did you catch me?’ ‘You intrigue me,’ he told her frankly. Easy enough. " "Oh! of course," rejoined Mrs. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. “No! My father. He never appears to so little advantage as when speaking of him.
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