This, Wood, acting upon Terry's caution, was most unwilling to do; but, finding he had no alternative, he reluctantly made known his errand and the bolts were undrawn. He kissed her fingers and grinned. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. That was the only sound he heard. This did not tickle his vanity; on the contrary, it enlivened his terror, which is a phase of fascination. He glanced up at the coachman. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. But I’m always trying to make things happen.
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