CHAPTER XV. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. “Why should it matter?” he said. Take my child to—it is—oh God!—I am sinking—take it—take it!" "Where?" shouted Wood. "Hold!" interposed Thames, "he can do no more mischief. He pictured himself visiting the girl in this shabby little home of her aunt’s—she had told him that it was shabby—and he recalled that delicious little smile with which she would surely greet him, a smile which seemed to be a matter of the eyes as well as the lips.
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