So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. With a moment of inward shame he remembered his deportment towards Anna. “I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. She thought of the marvellous beauty of skin, and all the delightfulness of living texture. But what affair is this of yours?’ But Captain Roding was not attending. " "Be silent, and conceal yourself. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already.
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