" "I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Detention would mean coming home late, which spelled distraction and trouble on the night of a kill. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. . He smiled complacently. Lincoln lost to Glenbrook South miserably, the score eight to two. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it.
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