The poor boy, imagining things! "That's want of substantial food. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. " "Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed to say that he did not think it required any surprising skill in the art of divination to predict the doom of the individual in question; but whatever opinion he might entertain, he contented himself with inquiring into the grounds of the conjuror's evil augury respecting the infant. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. ’ This was Leonardo’s philosophy.
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