"No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. He was wearing a new silk hat, with a slightly more generous brim than its predecessor, and it suited his type of face, robbed his dark eyes a little of their aggressiveness and gave him a solid and dignified and benevolent air. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Her back arched slightly in response. Man or woman. The likeness was ridiculous. I am grateful, indeed I am. There is the key. Lucy went hunting on a Thursday night. You can borrow any of my outfits anytime, you know.
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