" "Poor child!" muttered Trenchard, abstractedly; "the whole scene upon the river is passing before me. The Procession to Tyburn 462 XXXII. Ennison too, always handsome and debonnair, seemed transported out of his calm self. I’ve bored you or something. He was into the passage in time to see her slip into another chamber at the end. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. The constable, Sharples, is in my pay. " She laughed; and it was pleasant laughter in his ears.
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