A feeling of inexplicable awe crept over the carpenter as the sounds died away. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. He seemed to possess a penetration and cunning beyond his years—to hide a man's judgment under a boy's mask. “They have just taken this house from Lady Cellender. I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might have the dresses and entertainments she desired. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams.
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