From the first I could see that neither believed my story. To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. Old farmhouses loomed as they whizzed by, left behind in the gray like mourners. "Aha!" exclaimed Jackson. You are French?" "No. " "Not for worlds!" exclaimed both ladies together. " And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wistfully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room, and locked the door after him. Arrived within a short distance of his destination, he came to a halt, and pointing out a dark court nearly opposite the woollen-draper's abode, told the chairmen to wait there till they were summoned. "There's Sharples," cried Quilt. It was maddening to be made to feel that he was in any way the inferior of this cool, self-possessed young woman, whose eyes seemed for a moment to scintillate with scorn. ‘Lord,’ he uttered, glancing about with a disparaging eye.
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