What'll we call him—Rollo?"—ironically. Run away now, please. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold. ” For a time there seemed no comfort for her even in Capes. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation.
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