She was gone. “Thank you, Martin,” she replied graciously. ‘You are there. Even this man-hunting machine was willing to grant the boy his honeymoon. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. Perhaps in the beginning the women made fools of themselves over him.
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