The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. She located her foster family. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. ” “Please tell me why?” she asked. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. As for loving you, I do. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. Won't you, Jack?" "That I will," answered Sheppard, eagerly. There was something very wrong. Nasty, damp passages.
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