"Speak out—don't be alarmed," said Wood, in a kind and encouraging tone. John knew better. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. The farmer was a widow who was slightly famous around town for his prize cows and slightly more famous for his good looks. But I don’t suppose you can understand. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. A brief description will suffice for them. “His dress for no man lays a snare; A man scores always, everywhere. ” The three men, who had arrived within a minute or two of one another, received her little speech in dead silence. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. It is queer, but men of education and good birth fall swiftest and lowest.
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