" The carpenter, upon whom no part of this hurried dialogue had been lost, now made his appearance, and having obtained from Terence all the information which that personage could impart respecting the perilous situation of Thames, he declared himself ready to start to Saint Giles's at once, and ran back to the room for his hat and stick; expressing his firm determination, as he pocketed his constable's staff with which he thought it expedient to arm himself, of being direfully revenged upon the thief-taker: a determination in which he was strongly encouraged by his wife. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated. And what did she do? Not only did she cut his hand in her rage, but she refused to let him help her, and then she ran away from him. "And you will answer it frankly?" "Certainly. My name is Annabel, not Anna. Wood rushed instantly to meet them. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. And now her mind was so full of the thought that she was in love—in love!—that marvellous state! that I really believe she had some dim idea of talking to him about it. This incredible scene robbed him of the sense of locomotion. And to think that there they are making history! There they are putting together the plans of a new world.
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