"Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil. She looked at him as he thrust deeply, his face contorted with pleasure as he watched her riding him. " "Wood's daughter, I suppose?" observed the other. ‘She may well try to go back. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. .
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