Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. " He bent his head to his knees. She replied softly. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. And the fences are down for good. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. Wood, leaping from the bed. Glad to get back, I’m sure,” he said briskly. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love.
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