The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. He was consumed with desire. One of the shutters was a trifle damaged, letting in added light. ‘They lived with him, one after the other, for all the world as his wife. when I was five. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. But you——” Something seemed to catch his breath. “We have scarcely mentioned your name. "Not my king's," returned Wood. Wild," edged in Quilt. You have watched all the uncouth creations of my brain come sprawling out upon the canvas, and besides, we have been companions.
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