Mrs. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. "And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you young dog?" continued the carpenter, cuffing him soundly,—"rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose. “Pretend,” he said, “that all I have said hasn’t been said. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. It’s no good hiding it any more. Your father…. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. Spurling attended him as his nurse, and, under her care, he speedily revived. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. You've nothing to do but to take possession.
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