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" "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. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. ‘Never mind that now. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. ‘Where is there that I can go?’ All at once Alderley felt acutely suspicious. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. It’s just life, pure life, life nascent, running clear and strong. I worship you.
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