Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. A sob was strangled in her throat. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. \" He said to her as he threw the gear into Park. Wood scarcely knew where he was. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. I'm no great judge of these articles, Ma'am; but I trust to your honour not to palm off paste upon me.
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