And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. 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. "Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored Jack; "and take me where you please. " "And, what good would that do?" replied Ireton, sarcastically. But it was hopelessly hard to put.
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