But he would make it a point not to speak again to the girl. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. “I had the pleasure of—er—meeting you more than once, I believe. \" He said. “But, dear, think! He is your father. Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. ” This made her even angrier, so she stopped speaking to him for a week. ‘No, I do not go back. .
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