Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. He rested on one elbow. She glanced into her companion’s face, and she saw there strange things. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. 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.
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