Mr. " "Entreat a fiddlestick!" retorted Mrs. Wood turned over to obtain a more comfortable position. There one is! The same stuff still! One has a craving in one’s blood, a craving roused, cut off from its redeeming and guiding emotional side. This adventure of yours has gone on altogether too long; it has become a serious distress to both your aunt and myself. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. Then he turned round and gazed thoughtfully at the particular spot in the fog where Courtlaw had disappeared.
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