The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. " "Nothing in the pockets. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. She felt that for a time at any rate her depressing struggle against continual failure was at an end. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. ’ She thrust him out of the room and made for the stairs. "Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the conciliatory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong; "your explanation is perfectly satisfactory. Perhaps you'll give me in return some token, by which I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet again.
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