. Indeed, I've heard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter her under his own roof. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. The flicker of an eyelash might betray his presence. Beck, it smells wonderful in here. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection.
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