" "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. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts. "I did not know … that it was … like that!" She stepped back; but as his hands fell she caught and held them tightly. I could not become an Oracle. Why in heaven’s name didn’t I think of that before?’ ‘What are you talking of?’ ‘Never mind that now. Perhaps he had lost his loved ones and was wandering over the world seeking forgetfulness. He went to the door. Wood, when he does return, I'd send him about his business. From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. You do not need my compliments.
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