"You shall have the sum you require, but——" "But what, Madam!" "Do not misunderstand me," she proceeded. "What is it?" "The night," she answered. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Then enter Mr. Don't strip me quite. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off. Detention would mean coming home late, which spelled distraction and trouble on the night of a kill. They were delighted. The proa bore away to the northwest out of which it had come.
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