She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. "Mr. Tell me I haven’t heard. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. " And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass.
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