Finally Lucy replied. Pale, flesh-colored light filtered in through the corners of the house. But he didn’t marry her. Both the janizary and the skipper arose as the others entered the room. 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. Mark you, she wasn’t the only one. “If one was free,” she said, “one could go to him.
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