The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. " "Who cares if we do?" retorted Sheppard, with a look of defiance. The room in which this interview took place had a sordid and miserable look. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. "Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan. What passed between them I cannot think—I dare not. You see, I kidnapped poor Jack and made him promise to send me word if you went careering off anywhere. 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. He kissed her at the door. He deserves none. But this accusation, for want of sufficient evidence, met with the same fate as the first, and Jonathan came off victorious.
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