He waved a hand toward the sea. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. His chest heaved violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. Folks don’t like ’em. Ought she to walk into some of these places and tell them what she could do? She hesitated at the window of a shipping-office in Cockspur Street and at the Army and Navy Stores, but decided that perhaps there would be some special and customary hour, and that it would be better for her to find this out before she made her attempt. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts.
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