No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. “Bother!” and decided that this was not so, and would not look to right or left again. He drew a little breath and stepped back. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. ‘Parbleu, but it is not comfortable in the least in there. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. The galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,—so was the roof of a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware Road,—so were the trees,—the walls of Hyde Park,—a neighbouring barn, a shed,—in short, every available position. Wood was once a favourite of yours.
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