"Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. " "Very right, my love," said Wood, "very sensibly remarked. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. ‘You damned little fool! How dared you steal my sword?’ Her eyes flew open. “Are you going to the Vorsack’s for dinner tonight?” “Yes, I think I’ll stop by. " Thames complied. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly.
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