He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. By-the-bye, do you recognize that?” Anna looked and gasped. There were groves of cultivated guava, orange, lemon, and pomegranate. I’ve wanted you—always. " "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail.
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