The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. ’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. He knocked at the door.
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