"Well, well, we'll say no more about it," replied Wood; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for consolation, Joan. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. She was the social leader of Morningside Park, and in her superficial and euphuistic way an extremely kind and pleasant woman. At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who, nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him, only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered the position of the bundle. This I know, for the Valades have taught me so, and the nuns also. Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street. He was going to tell me something— and he shut up. "You've hit it," answered Sheppard.
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