In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. He did not notice that Ann Veronica was preoccupied and heavy-eyed. Light flooded the place. There was a very substantial profit in the transaction, for he paid the natives in commodities—coloured cotton cloths, pipes and tobacco, guns and ammunition, household utensils, cutlery and glass gewgaws. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. "Confusion!" he cried; "something has happened. " "We know it," cried several voices. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come. She was going through with that, anyhow. ” She turned and fitted the latchkey into the door. .
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