"Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. " He started to pick up a sheet of manuscript, but she pushed him from the table toward the doorway; and he staggered out of the bungalow, suddenly stretched his arms, and broke into a trot. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. " "But you are educated!"—astonished. ‘Alors, what advantages?’ ‘But think,’ he said earnestly, moving a little closer. Ennison had disappeared. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. Immediately he grasped the fact that there was drama here, probably the old drama of the fugitive.
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