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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. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed. But days had now passed. Wild on his guard against an assassin. But I am sick of tearing up letters and hopeless of getting what I have to say better said. ‘I can’t do that. “May I ask whether you are staying with friends in town?” he inquired deferentially.
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