Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. She felt a storm of emotion surging up within her. I watched you wait at the farmhouse! But I couldn’t compromise your safety! You must have realized that!” She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “I’ve been to hear you lots of times.
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