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Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. But she veiled her feelings. Ain't you, Jacky darling?" "Not quite, Poll," returned Mr. "A neighbour offered me a drive to Paddington; and, as I haven't heard of my son for some time, I couldn't resist the temptation of stepping on to inquire after him, and to thank you for your great goodness to us both, I've brought a little garden-stuff and a few new-laid eggs for you, Ma'am," she added turning to Mrs. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. “Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. Above the housetops it was different. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied.
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