“What made you think” he said, abruptly, with the gleam of avidity in his face, “that love makes people happy?” “I know it must. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly. The knife is at my breast. She tore open the envelope and read it.
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