Spurlock had better stick to the bungalow. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. In addition, the Fadden Dance business, all out of proportion, occupied the whole foreground of her thoughts and threw a color of rebellion over everything. After a certain amount of manœuvring, however, he was induced to crawl around, and in a few minutes came to stop again before a tall brightly-painted house, which seemed like an oasis of colour and assertive prosperity in a long dingy row. After an hour of waiting, she slammed her bedroom door and he returned to his basement. I've my own reasons for disliking this job. She had left for ever the cage, the galling leash: she was free. Wood's famous 'prentice?" "What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise. "It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone.
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