Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Mrs. " "Do not distress him, dear father," said Winifred; "he suffers deeply. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. His face darkened. “I don’t take any prisoners, John! You do not want this life!” “Yes I do! I am an adult. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. John looked at his feet bashfully.
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