Wood scarcely knew where he was. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. He would ask her to come to dinner with him in some little Italian or semiBohemian restaurant in the district toward Soho, or in one of the more stylish and magnificent establishments about Piccadilly Circus, and for the most part she did not care to refuse. The darkness prevented the carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility of holding any communication by words with him. She packed her backpack with a change of clothes, some rags, and her old length of piano wire. She saw the moonlit waters, the black shadow of the proa, the moon-fire that ran down the far edge of the bellying sail, the silent natives: no sound except the slapping of the outrigger and the low sibilant murmur of water falling away from the sides—and the beating of her heart. “I want to inquire,” said Ann Veronica. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. "Jack!" cried Thames, in a loud voice, "you deserve to be hanged for a rebel as you are to your lawful king and your lawful master. She resolved to walk across the Park to the Zoological gardens, and so on by way of Primrose Hill to Hampstead Heath. " "Execrable villain!" exclaimed Jack.
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