Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame. “But the thing is, I want a job. . “I wish you and I had drunk that love potion,” he said. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. Buried under various ancestral sixteenths, smothered under modern thought, liberty of action and bewildering variety of flesh-pots, it was still alive to the extent that it needed only his present state to resuscitate it in all its peculiar force. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him. Their talk drifted to the beauty of music, and they took that up again at tea-time.
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