The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, meanwhile, remained perfectly motionless; his figure erect, and with somewhat of dignity in his demeanour. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. ‘Tell me, my boy. "Mur—der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled. ‘Leonardo again,’ he growled. 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. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless.
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