Wood's house was broken into and plundered. It's certain. “Not to-night,” she said. The touch of her hands was pleasurable. “Your house is so huge. "He hears me not! he's gone!" she added, as the door was opened and shut with violence; "something tells me I shall never see him again!" When her father, a moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascertain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on the stairs, in an agony of grief. She had never felt so cold, she felt even colder than she had in the water. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street.
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