I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. “You are unjust and quixotic, Anna, you have no right to treat any one as you are treating me. Then to Martin's brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety. " "Take time to consider of it," replied Wood sulkily, "there's no hurry. "Poor Mrs.
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