The Leads 405 XXI. Wood, I forget nothing. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. It was immediately opened by a man with light eyelashes and a manner suggestive of restrained passion. A sudden knock at the door startled her. What was the matter with the dress? She could not see. “Child!” he cried. "No," replied Jonathan, moodily. "Enough!" exclaimed Wild, triumphantly. Mutual concessions!—and then to turn it around so that it suggested that an act of kindness might be interpreted as moral obloquy! Walls; queer, invisible walls that receded whenever she reached out, but that still remained between her and what she sought. He was always doing his best to call her attention to the fact that he was a man of spirit and quality and experience, and she a young and beautiful woman, and that all sorts of constructions upon their relationship were possible, trusting her to go on from that to the idea that all sorts of relationships were possible. She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of her childhood. But the crowning glory of Jonathan, that which raised him above all his predecessors in iniquity, and clothed this name with undying notoriety—was to come. “I didn’t blow up the house.
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