"Come here," said the petticoated tyrant. “She finds lying up so much very irksome. And now, my love," she added, with a relenting look, "I'm content to make up our quarrel. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. The whole place had come to life, the magic seeped out of the walls. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. Why had he glanced up—quite in that way?. It was still profoundly dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the earth.
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