He was a small, dark, reserved man, with a large inflexiblelooking convex forehead, and his wife was very pink and high-spirited, with one of those chins that pass insensibly into a full, strong neck. He stood up abruptly and went to the window. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. ‘But you have told them that I have been disguised, no? That I have broken into Remenham House, and—’ ‘No, no, child, don’t be alarmed,’ said her great-aunt, her tone soothing. All at once it came to him what a fool he was to worry over this phase which was wholly suppositional. CHAPTER XV. " "Bring him here,—let me see him—let me embrace him—let me be assured that he is safe, and I am yours. I don't know whose brainless head it may be, but it'll do for my collection.
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