It isn’t sentiment but it’s horse sense. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. ‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent.
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