Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. " "There's but one way of clearing it, your worship," said the Master, archly. Upon the steps leading to the gates of the church stood two persons whom Jack instantly recognised. She knew the truth of it all right. It was, in a way, something of a joke to the doctor: psychology and physiognomy on an island which white folks did not visit more than three or four times a year, only then when they had to. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table. "He has robbed him. ‘You said—who?’ ‘Remenham.
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