Wood, in a taunting tone. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled. By the time I had recovered myself she had gone. Here, Peter," he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig.
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