And the infernal thought of that kiss returned—the softness of her lips and the cool smoothness of her cheeks. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. She said it audibly, having learned long since that an audible prayer was a concentrated one. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo.
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