But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. “How have you been, my dear? Up to no good, I see. While the carpenter irresolutely quitted the room, with a strong presentiment of ill upon his mind, a light quick step was heard descending the stairs, and before he could call out to prevent it, a man was admitted into the passage. And, if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was continually getting him into scrapes, he might have been accounted a respectable member of society. Men ought not to idealize any woman. He had the air of a man who has said too much.
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