"I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. He had set out to win her, and she had let him start. “I suppose I should let go if I had. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. Good night! God bless you!" Upon this, there was a great shaking of hands, with renewed apologies and protestations of friendship on both sides; after which Mr. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. But let that verse tell my secret.
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