" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. . ‘You heard Gosse—I mean, the man you know as Valade?’ ‘Clear as day, miss,’ he uttered. He did not look up, so he did not know that in her other hand she held a glass of wine. It will be his interest to do so. She is not in the least like the descriptions of her. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite.
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