He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. ‘You kissed me that you might make me find it for you instead?’ ‘I had no such intention. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. Horrible memories of things seen beneath the microscope of the baser forms of life crawled across her mind and set her shuddering with imagined irritations. Then she called a hansom and drove home. She backed away from him. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. Wonderful! The water, dripping from you, must have looked like pearls. Manning?” she asked. ‘Believe it or not, I do it for pleasure. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. . “I don’t think I CAN do that,” she said. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon.
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