"I cannot part with him," replied the widow, bursting into tears; "indeed, indeed, I cannot. It’s the public entrance. “We are both of us trenching upon forbidden ground,” she said. ” She watched his face as he traced his way through these speculative thickets. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view.
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