” Lucy gestured to the rough plywood floor. ” “It would be different all the same. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. It would be very good to be Capes’ friend. “Come upstairs,” she said, “and I will show you your room. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party.
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