Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. "Why not?" "I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat.
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