“It is just a look. That’s got his nerves to rags. The owner of this dress had a broad weather-beaten face, small twinkling eyes, and a bushy, grizzled beard. Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying he scarce knew whither (for there was such a continual buzzing in his ears and dancing in his eyes, as almost to take away the power of reflection), he held on at a brisk pace till his strength completely failed him. “Your father,” he said, “remarked that all’s well that ends well, and that he was disposed to let bygones be bygones.
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