Upon what this instinct was based she could not say; she was conscious only of its insistence. Wood, who had recovered her good humour, quitted the room she bestowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him laughingly, that she would "defer all she had to propose to him until to-morrow. "Vat ish it, Mishter Vild?" inquired Mendez. " "We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir Cecil, "and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building. He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. You’re not to go. "Vell, vell," growled Sharples, after he had listened to the other's remonstrances, "it shall be done.
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