If I could but——” To escape from her thoughts she began to undress, humming a light tune to herself, though her eyes were hot with unshed tears, and the sobs kept rising in her throat. What beasts men are! I cannot typewrite, my three stories are still wandering round, two milliners have refused me as a lay figure because business was so bad. " McClintock preferred to put it thus. Wood, ironically; "but I used to think it required something more than mere words to prove that a person's character was abused. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine.
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