I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. Yet I shall think of you to-day. ’ ‘I had never the intention to tell you anything, pig!’ Gosse moved forward a little.
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