Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. “A serious question. “Time for my Patience,” she said. ‘I do not wish to hear any more reasons so foolish, so do not trouble to think of them. She cried and sobbed in fits. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. I’d rather die than hear any more fairytales.
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