” “You must admit,” he declared, “that to us—who had seen you—the thought of your trying anything else was amazing. His eyes were closed. The blue jowl, the fat-lidded eyes—now merry, now alert, now tungsten hard—the bullet head, the pudgy fingers and the square-toed shoes were all in conformation with the doctor's olden mental picture. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. The vote is only the beginning, the necessary beginning. . "I've been wondering, until this morning, if you were real.
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