To return was impossible,—to raise himself certain destruction. ’ ‘Truly?’ Melusine said excitedly. Wood brought up. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. But he was not a father one could make much of. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate. They seed beyond all reason. 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.
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