He would get her to come to tea with him, usually in a pleasant tea-room over a fruit-shop in Tottenham Court Road, and he would discuss his own point of view and hint at a thousand devotions were she but to command him. He displayed a quite unprofessional vein of mysticism in the matter. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. Beck, it smells wonderful in here. "Shall I take the babby home with me!" persisted Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest. Father and daughter regarded each other warily, each more than a little insecure with the other.
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