"Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. Mr. This, then, was the cause of the widow's wild inexplicable look,—of her sudden shriek! Explaining his suspicious in a whisper to Jack's captor, who proved to be a church-warden and a constable, by name John Dump,—Mr. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. The very facts that Miss Miniver never stated an argument clearly, that she was never embarrassed by a sense of self-contradiction, and had little more respect for consistency of statement than a washerwoman has for wisps of vapor, which made Ann Veronica critical and hostile at their first encounter in Morningside Park, became at last with constant association the secret of Miss Miniver’s growing influence. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am.
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