The detective backed out slowly and closed the door without sound. Few men could have done as much. Wood,—the person whom you may remember adopted him,—at Dollis Hill, near Willesden; and it's a singular but fortunate circumstance, so far as we are concerned, that Mrs. He was here shortly after the young man was taken ill. Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. Thus, more and more Ruth turned to the mongrel dog who bore the name of Rollo unflinchingly—the dog that adored her openly, shamelessly, who now without a whimper took his diurnal tubbing. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. She's not mischievous—and besides she's chained, and can't reach you.
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