The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair. \"Is it okay if I go on a date tonight?\" Lucy asked Cathy. “I will tell you something if you like. ” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. “I must take them,” she said, to help herself over her own incredulity. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral.
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