” She stopped short. " "Give me the brandy, and I'll tell you," replied Wood. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy.
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