“Who the hell are you, Lucy?” “Promise me you will never tell anyone. And you are something of a heroine, too. ‘You think my father would not have married Suzanne if he had known? Me, I do not agree. You’ve placed me in a very exceptional position, Miss Stanley. 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. ‘But I am perfectly serious,’ he returned in a voice of protest.
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