" Upon which, with an assurance that he would not do so, the attendant departed. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. I won’t try. “I am off to-night,” he said. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. ‘You’ve found her out?’ ‘Tell us at once,’ urged Miss Froxfield. “I wish you would come and see my lawyers. Seems Enschede's daughter ran away and left him, and he's combing the islands in search of her.
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