On the way home he was still thoughtful. “It is possible,” Courtlaw said, “that you too were deceived. To disillusion her, forthwith. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. ‘You are, I think, a gentleman, no?’ Gerald bowed. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. "Bess wouldn't bear a rival. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?" "I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you," rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. ” “Except,” said Constance, surveying her work with her head on one side, “to keep the matches from the litter. "Man, man! You're coming to life. Then she looked up at Brendon. The will to live had returned. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him.
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