" "As you please, Sir,—provided you don't let him off. Yours?" The stranger hesitated. A creeping numbness invaded her. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. There was a confused impression of livery carriages and whips with white favors, people fussily wanting other people to get in before them, and then the church. She hung for a moment, and then went on, conclusively, “Until we have the vote that is how things WILL be. I drew upon every skill I had ever learned in battle in 199 her tournaments. ” She breathed an inner sigh of relief. They sat in the front row.
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