“My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. Mr. Wild in my presence! He's the right-hand of the community! We could do nothing without him!" "We!" repeated Wood, significantly. Anna was singing as she used to sing. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day.
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