At this time of universal havoc and despair,—when all London quaked at the voice of the storm,—the carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared better than might have been anticipated. Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse. She bathed frequently with ash and lye soap stolen from traders. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. "Give me till to-morrow," implored she, "and if I can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him without another word.
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