Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment. She turned with an effort. That for the men lay near the Lodge, with which it was connected by a dark passage. She met the keen grey eyes of a clean-shaven man, between forty and fifty, quietly dressed in professional attire. They seem to spend their time yawning and inspecting their neighbour’s dresses through those hateful glasses. ‘You give me an excellent excuse to have in the Madeira,’ said his hostess, reaching for a silver hand bell and setting it pealing.
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