"It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. ” “WHAT?” said Ann Veronica, startled. But his words were borne away by the driving wind. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. “Really?” “Would not let it go. 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. The man lingered.
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