She stared at him. 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. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. When he was up and about, the idea of flight would return. “I don’t think you realize,” Ann Veronica began again, “that I am rather a defective human being. CHAPTER XXXI.
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