He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. “What do you think of that?” he asked. The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward. Raising the bowl in his right hand, Jack glanced towards the balcony, in which the group of ladies were seated, and begged to drink their healths; he then turned to Kneebone and the others, who extended their hands towards him, and raised it to his lips. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary care, and in more than ordinary finery. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly.
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