It was not only Leonardo who had instilled in her this distrust of men. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. “You did not tell me that you were going out, or I would have offered my escort. The cage at Willesden was, and is—for it is still standing—a small round building about eight feet high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers, and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. I know South America and Canada like the lines in my hand.
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