What can she be? The wife of a country tradesman, or a duchess? And such a meek little husband too. You will obey me out of common decency. Sir John stood upon the threshold. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. She's the boss.
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