His fingers closed upon her hand. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. ‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. "Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself in the farthest corner of the cell. She said that she couldn’t stand Mike. "It's too late to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; so, with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging in Saint Giles's round-house.
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