Melusine had confessed this morning, that she had borrowed his horse, that Jack had met with his accident through her fault. This laughter released something that had been striving for expression—her own natural buoyancy. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. Then she was out of the door and running, fast.
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