Not like my father. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. " And before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth, and disclosed Shotbolt. The woollen-draper looked at his watch. 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. "But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. I thank God for His sunlight on your face. .
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