Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. ‘Because she, naturally enough, does not consider that it is in any way my affair. I want to love him. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient. "I haven't a word to say, Ah Cum, not a word.
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