" "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. "I'm going back for Ruth. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane. I do not wish for you to see me feed. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. He brought home a few waverers to talk to them where they had no chance of getting away. "Yon's a dear man," said McClintock.
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