The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. “I think,” she said, “that I will tell you everything. 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. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. ’ Gerald noted the mixture of respect and apprehension in the glance he received from the boy. .
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