Wood, I command you not to stir," vociferated the carpenter's better-half; "recollect you'll be answerable to me. Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. "I'm quite at your disposal. That terrible laughter, just before his senses had left him! Why? Here was a word that volleyed at her from all directions, numbed and bewildered her: the multiple echoes of her own first utterance of the word. The image of Major Alderley came into her mind. .
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