Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. " "Can I have a word with you, master?" said Sheppard, approaching Wood. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. It felt wonderful and golden to bask in the sunlight of their approval, even if their approval was fickle and dangerous. 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.
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