Wood, in indignant surprise. I can’t even carry a tune with a bucket. 2. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ‘You make a game with me, I think. [Illustration: Distinctive Pictures Photoplay. Gerald studied the darkness beyond the aperture. She turned back into the hall. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. Very well, I give up. 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.
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