’ ‘Can’t say as I’m sorry to hear you say that, missie,’ confessed the sergeant, on a relieved note, as he locked the front door of the mansion and pocketed the key. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. I’m convinced that much of Russell’s investigations are on wrong lines, unsound lines. He was safe, out of the beaten track, at last really comparable to the needle in the haystack. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery.
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