“We have no airs and graces here, and my hat hangs from a peg in the passage. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. "Then I presume you've not been arrested?" "I have not," answered Wood firmly. One or two landladies refused her with an air of conscious virtue that she found hard to explain. Then she examined with curiosity some knick-knacks upon a small round table by her side. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. Sheila found out.
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