“If I thought for a moment that there was any chance of a relapse, I should stop here and tell him the truth even now. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. He rose, steadied himself, then walked out of the dining room. Let me see my child, if he is really here?" "Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute, but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading him towards her. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene.
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