“Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. It was a huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in repairing the structure. And yet to Spurlock it was only the title of a story he would some day write. To be ill and helpless. Even the stars were strangers. All the sombre visions she had been pressing back, fighting out of her thoughts, swarmed over the barrier and crushed her. CHAPTER III. “And yet I wonder whether the world ever held such another enigma in her sex. Sebastian grabbed a rock from a corner and bashed in its skull. “I trust,” he said, “that you will recognize the justice of these conditions. Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on;—now ascending, now descending the different mountains of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street.
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