The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. Her girl, Clarice, was ten and just as pretty as a silver bell. Her disapproval was obvious enough. "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. . She has power over men’s fates in more ways than one. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. Wood," replied Jack, calmly.
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