Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. And here, we may be permitted to offer an observation upon the peculiar and unaccountable influence which ladies of a shrewish turn so frequently exercise over—we can scarcely, in this case, say—their lords and masters; an influence which seems not merely to extend to the will of the husband, but even to his inclinations. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill. ’ ‘Consider me warned,’ said Gerald solemnly.
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