Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. 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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