’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. " "Well, well, since you desire it, I'll say no more," returned Wood. The doctor sensed that his bolt had gone wrong, but he could not tell how or why. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. “Ungracious little beast, I call her. CHAPTER I. ‘You make a game with me, I think. The first of these, whom he addressed as Mr.
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