Again having recourse to the centre-bit,—for Winifred's door was locked,—Jack had nearly cut out a panel, when a sudden outcry was raised in the carpenter's chamber. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. And Mother trusted him. “Just remember, I have to make this up to you. His jawline was 78 masculine and severe, only tempered by the soft hazy color of his eyes.
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