This woman, contrary to his custom, he answered. " "I will yield it to no one but its mother," answered Wood. One night she apparently fell asleep. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. Now then," he added more calmly, "I am ready to die. "Whatever your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it. No blowzy barmaids for him to-day: an American bar-keep to whom he could tell his troubles and receive the proper meed of sympathy. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him.
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