When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. . ” “It is for your good—your good only I am thinking,” he declared. “Beats me. They mean everything that women can mean—except submission. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. ‘Must be another of her lies. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. You’re mine. My vengeance is completely gratified.
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