“Here we are, living in the same suburb,” he began. “Have some more port wine, sir?” “It’s a very sound wine,” said Mr. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. She found no ready reply to that, and he went on: “This music is the food of love. To Ruth came that of the great world, her lawful lover at her side; and there would be glorious books into each of which he would unconsciously put a little of her soul along with his own, needing her always. “You do not know what such a relation means. This was followed by heavy footsteps, and in another moment the dining-room door was flung open. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone.
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