“When they tap the roof,” she said, in a voice of authority, “you are to come out. Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. David Courtlaw. Her husband had caught her leaning over a precipice into the ruins of the oubliette, and had punished her by flogging her back with a switch. She further suspected that he might find a servant to dally with in the meantime, if he had not already. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. After the sights he would have to twiddle his thumbs until the joints cracked.
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