Felix. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. If you can’t see as how there ain’t nothing in this barrack of a place to help me do the job, I can. ‘Fiddle, Gerald. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it.
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