Lucy knocked again. “Life is upsetting enough, without the novels taking a share,” said Mr. Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his attention to this unexpected means of escape. " "Possibly not," replied Thames, in some confusion; "but I am not at liberty to speak. Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. Get you gone. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them. The coachman answered by a surly grunt, and, plying his whip with redoubled zeal, shaped his course down Dyot Street; traversed that part of Holborn, which is now called Broad Street, and where two ancient alms-houses were, then, standing in the middle of that great thoroughfare, exactly opposite the opening of Compston Street; and, diving under a wide gateway on the left, soon reached a more open space, surrounded by mean habitations, coach-houses and stables, called Kendrick Yard, at the further end of which Saint Giles's round-house was situated.
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