235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. . . "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. "O, Lord!" ejaculated Wood. “I suppose all life is an affair of chances. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. “Act three. He leaned towards her, laid his hand tenderly upon hers. There was going to be no quarter between these two. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. The procession now wound its way, without further interruption, along Holborn. We already had a place to mislay blame.
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