Wood could give him no further information respecting Sir Rowland Trenchard than what he had obtained from Kneebone; but begged him to defer the further consideration of the line of conduct he meant to pursue until the morrow, when he hoped to have a plan to lay before him, of which he would approve. "That's it!"—eagerly. To think of him as loving her would make all that different. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. He turned, and beheld Winifred. “But I am at singing-pitch. A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. My nerves were in rags. ‘I’ll make it, miss.
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