Hilary Roding was all soldier now, his earlier grievances laid aside. There was no one at home, and I was coming away when I saw that the door was open. He came along, he said, just to call, with large, loud apologies, radiantly kind and good. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. . “How did you know I haven’t been getting any sleep --?” “Oops, that’s my class. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity.
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