She got up early, and walked about the garden in the dewy June sunshine and revived her childhood. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. "Are you returning to Hong-Kong to-morrow by the day boat?" For a moment Ruth was astonished at the sound of the spinster's voice. The Northern Ocean keeps a secret better than the Thames, Sir Rowland. They all left the room. T’weren’t fitting, we knew that.
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