Wood's reception of the widow, who, at that moment, was ushered into the room by Winifred, was not particularly kind and encouraging. Ten thousand steeds appeared to be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devastation. No, let us dine here, and then go and have our coffee on the boulevards. She could feel his warm little body trying to snuggle into her, trying to wriggle loose of his swaddling cloth. Presently she became aware of footsteps hurrying after her, and glanced back to find Miss Klegg, a little out of breath, in pursuit. I could not become an Oracle.
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