Wood, who maintained stoutly, that if Thames had been led to do wrong, it must be through the instrumentality of his worthless companion. What in the world was the wench up to now? For it must be she. He continued thoughtfully. If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. Through all this flutter of novelty there came and went a solicitous, preoccupied, almost depressed figure. She watched the people and hummed softly to herself. And the woollen-draper departed. We looked upon you, my dear Sir John, with reverence, almost with awe.
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