The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. He did not write this with lead but with his heart's blood. And he liked her. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy. Cathy had not even noticed that she herself was wet and trailing water everywhere. But you! Why the devil did you marry her? That's the thing that confounds me.
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