"Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. But they did what they could for her. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. Still, it was rather terrible to suspect that one had fallen from grace, but nevertheless the thing was possible. Lucy blushed from toes to forehead, feeling her pace accelerate. He hadn't gambled or played the horses or hit the booze back there in little old New York…. He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. “You are a thousand times more beautiful,” he said, “than anything else could be. . . "This she-devil has got hold of the sack. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names.
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