Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. He did not stagger in the least. She had become neutral towards him and he had used the lesson to try to advance himself. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. Even if he were an old friend, you couldn't afford to do it. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. “I heard nothing,” he declared, “and my ears are good. . You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. Englishmen also certainly.
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