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She succumbed to cancer of the breast at age forty-three, it was slow and wasting. Girls screamed in chorus. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. " "I wonder where the deuce I'll be able to get some writing paper? I'm crazy to get to work again. Toys! Delicate trifles! A sex of invalids. ” “Sure, anything you want.
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