Twice Spurlock went to Copeley's—twenty miles to the northwest—for ice and mail. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them. “Really,” she said. He was profoundly stirred. ‘You wish to die?’ ‘Not in the least. . He would advise you how to get rid of the fellow. "Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. He was heartily thankful for it.
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