. I love you—unendurably. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. “For nothing, do you call it?” he declared. “Ah!” said Ramage, impressively. A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's dwelling into this yard. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. "But I like Bobby Burns best.
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