So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery. Wood, joining the group, "it isn't Thames Darrell come to life again?" "It is—it is!" cried Winifred, rushing towards him, and flinging her arms round his neck,—"it is my dear—dear brother!" "Well, this is what I never expected to see," said the carpenter, wiping his eyes; "I hope I'm not dreaming! Thames, my dear boy, as soon as Winny has done with you, let me embrace you. " At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger's brow. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged.
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