A dissipated, loose-living man. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. “Annabel at last,” he shouted. Prudence reminded him that he was a county magistrate, and parliamentary candidate for a somewhat difficult borough, where his principal supporters were dissenters of strict principles who took a zealous interest in his moral character. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. Anna, I listened to all that he had to say, and I called to him to let me get out. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe. Wood's. "As long as I live, I'll never forget that dress of hers," Prudence declared.
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