She threw hat and coat on the bed and sat down before the fire. In the periphery of her vision, she saw the door pulled back. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Even our coarseness. You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness. "Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss?" demanded the rough voice of the Irish watchman. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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