“Someone must have found it and taken good care of it. When she tried to speak she found it difficult. ” “That sounds more promising,” Lady Lescelles declared. He stooped to recover it, and his face was hidden. The two great hotels on their right were still ablaze with lights. Secretly she was gratified to be assigned to the rôle of an old traveller. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. 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. You don’t understand the fix I am in. ‘All right, Trodger. Hastening along the passage he came to the sixth door.
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