But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. You disgust me. ” “Auntie?” asked Constance, who was conversant with Ann Veronica’s affairs. She began to want to lay her head down on his chest but absolutely denied herself. " "Ship her back to her father"—sagely. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily.
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