And yet—Wait a little, you’d better have every bit of it. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. Beneath that tree let us lie. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window. Could she go through with it? She must. Not choosing to hazard so great a fall, Jack turned to examine the building, to see whether any more favourable point of descent presented itself, but could discover nothing but steep walls, without a single available projection.
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