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So, why did you slam the door in John Diedermayer's face?\" Lucy did not look at her, but cocked her head skyward. Smith," observed Wood. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. " And muttering some remarks, which we do not care to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex, he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry.
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