It is not well that a daughter should talk to her father as Ruth talked to hers that day. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. She creaked, groaned, and rattled; but that was only her way of yawning when she awoke. ‘But that is easy. “He just wants to get laid, you know. . " There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. The ripple of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through the stream—the darkling current hurrying by—the indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering around, and making their way in ghostlike silence, or warning each other of their approach by cries, that, heard from afar, have something doleful in their note—the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper gloom of the echoing arches—the lights glimmering from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge—the tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned through the obscurity;—these, and other sights and sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in meditation at such a time and in such a place. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street.
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