. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. "You're not out yet, you young hound," rejoined Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door. "You're wanted. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough.
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