CHAPTER X. Only an undermaid I was then. "Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival to the dust. " "Wear that to-night, then. "Hoity-toity! You owe me sixteen thousand dollars. And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. Sit down, I command you. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes.
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