Will you read to me? I am tired; and the sound of your voice makes me drowsy. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. "Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. "I should like to meet the man who would dare to gainsay it. ’ That wonderful poster—is of you. Do you understand?’ ‘Aye, sir. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. "Enough," said the widow, gratefully. But I want to know what you are doing. I do not want to hear from you even the threat of disobedience. I picked up her handkerchief on the floor.
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