It—it is nothing,’ she said, although with a tremor in her voice. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. Giles's, and other places—but I've nowhere seen any one who came up so completely to my notion of a first-rate housebreaker as the individual before us. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. Come along home, Ruth. I have a good memory, you perceive, Sir Rowland.
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