" "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. "O, Lord!" ejaculated Wood. ‘Aha,’ grunted Gerald with satisfaction, squinting up at the two open shutters on the second floor. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession. He pulled rein at the sight of her, saluted, and regarded her with his rather too protuberant eyes. Sheppard, returning his embrace with all a parent's tenderness. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. And of course! She had a brilliant idea. " "I am sorry. ‘Oh my God,’ uttered Gerald in some dismay. Don’t take revenge on him because I’ve wronged you. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. One who—who—tres. Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand.
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