"Your wife?" "His lawful wife," said Ruth, with fine dignity. Am I quite hidden?" "Not quite;—keep your feet in. I must go somewhere into hiding, a long, long way off. "I don't know what his idea was. No more. I do—with all my heart. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. " "Mother be——!" returned Jack. Gerald, whose French was adequate from his military service abroad, was able to respond suitably to such remarks as the ladies addressed to him, but was less exercised by their fashionable dress than their decidedly careworn appearance. Presently she was again in that dreadful tavern of the Thénardiers.
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