She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. But it was her proof. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back.
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