Wood's. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. "Love me, love my dog! Because I've scolded him and told him a few truths, you are ice to me. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels.
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