I have no right to love you. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. 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. For a pity, she has chosen to remain, and it has been her death. She felt the need to get dressed, sensing that his parents would be home soon. Neither the American Express nor Cook's had received mail for Howard Taber; he was not on either list. The one through which she had come and Gosse had entered behind her. The voice of the young seaman came floating down from the masthead, and the story of the immortal lovers had begun.
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