Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. A spot of colour, brighter than any rouge, burned on her cheeks. In a moment they were in the street outside. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. She knew that the stairs they had to negotiate to the vestry were extremely narrow, and she had made her plans. ” “Yeah, I think she hates you, hon. To make sure work of it, I'll superintend the job myself. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please.
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