So saying, he manfully resumed his work; while Wood and Thames quitted the room, and went down stairs. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. How on earth does it concern you?” Annabel laughed hardly. Wood bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took place on the day but one following—Sunday. “There’s another instinct, too,” he went on, “in a state of suppression, unless I’m very much mistaken; a child-expelling instinct. “Do you need me to tell you? You have tasted the luxury of power.
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