" "Poh! poh! say no more about it," rejoined the man hastily. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. Cheveney was looking after her, I think, then. She felt terrible lying to him. She fought a compulsive urge to yank his shirt free. " "Zounds! David Pugh, don't you know your old friend and countryman?" exclaimed the carpenter. She had been careless. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. I'll be at the Cross Shovels in the course of the day.
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