He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. "Something worse, I fear," Wood replied. "Please hurry the ammonia;" and Ruth turned away abruptly. ‘Kimble, you shouldn’t be here. I’ve no name for it yet. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas.
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