"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely. The phone did not ring. It was the only way to make the monthly bills. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies. ” He declared that no book could be satisfactory that left a bad taste in the mouth, however much it seized and interested the reader at the time. Here he was hotly pursued. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters.
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