"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. ” She controlled a sob. "Can't you speak?" "I don't choose," replied Thames, sturdily; "and your brutality shan't make me. ” He paused and looked at her, and said, with a sudden drop into a confidential undertone, “Or else I want to pray. I think you’re wrong. . Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. I told you that at the outset.
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