" CHAPTER XV. “The one who used to live at Lyndmore. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. " "I'll tell you really why I keep her in peeled paint. Meantime, every preparation had been made outside for his departure. He was not used to not getting his way. It would make my wife very happy. "Well, well, we'll say no more about it," replied Wood; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for consolation, Joan.
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