"Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. It was the beginning of June. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all. She was perhaps three-and-twenty, and very pink and healthy-looking, showing a great deal of white and rounded neck above her business-like but altogether feminine blouse, and a good deal of plump, gesticulating forearm out of her short sleeve. .
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