I asked you to go. But she did not believe he would do that. "Do nothing without consulting my father—your father, Thames," she implored. “Well?” he asked her tersely. I must bless him before I die. I just want him, and no one else will do. Look at it, I say. 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. My wife—killed me. " CHAPTER IX.
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