It was my fault.

If I'd only kept--my mouth shut!" "You need not be sorry you met me," she said, with her eyes straight upon his.

"I'm glad....

But oh! if your foot is badly hurt I'll never--never--' "Don't say it," interrupted Wilson.
"Lass, you're bent on doin' somethin'," said Wade, in his gentle voice.
"Bent ?" she echoed, with something deep and rich in her voice.

"Yes, I'm bent--_bent_ like your name--to speak my mind!" Then she ran toward the house and up on the porch, to enter the living-room with heaving breast and flashing eyes.