I wanted something alive. I——” The door was thrown open. Spurling and Austin at their evening meal, with Caliban in attendance. After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apartment—a comfortable cosy chamber; such a one, in short, as can only be met with in the country, with its dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender, its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing of freshness. Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal.
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