Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. It was dangerous for her to dare approaching him and she knew the tremendous risk she was taking, but a part of her demanded that he be found. Austin. "Not exactly," answered Jonathan, drily. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. A few minutes later she left the house on foot, and taking a hansom at the corner of the Square, drove to Anna’s flat. “We are clerks in the same bank.
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