He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. How plainly he could see the patch of garden in the summer sunshine and the white hollyhocks nodding above the picket fence! ***** Ruth sat waiting for the half hour, subconsciously. It's too hard. ” She drove off in a little fiacre, nodding and smiling at Sir John, who remained upon the Avenue. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door.
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