Perhaps I deceived you about it. You have the gift of words, but you haven't started to create yet. "And there you're right, you may dipind, marm," observed Terence. ‘I can’t help but be sure,’ he returned shortly. She had often wondered if Hoddy would ever go back to it. ‘Still more would I be so if he had come himself to tell me this. But in that reservation it may be she went a little beyond the converse of his view. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper.
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