“The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed the rope round his body, and in this way the poor boy was drawn up without difficulty. "Wretch!" she cried, "you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town.
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