“I believe that you are right,” he said softly. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile. "There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. ’ Both Valade and the granddaughter gazed at him blankly. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. Soho! boys. The sword, Jacques. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. Moving room to room it was.
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