“But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. "I was coming to give you intelligence of a comical trick played by this rascal, when I find him here—the last place, I own, where I should have expected to find him. "Have you never an out-o-the-vay corner, into vich you could shtow these troublesome warmint?" observed Abraham. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. If he died, here in this hotel, who would care? Or if she died, who would care? A queer desire blossomed in her heart: to go to him, urge him to see the folly of trying to forget. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. . I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood.
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