“This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. The terrors and anxieties of the last few months seemed to have fallen from her, to have passed away like an ugly dream, dismissed with a shudder even from the memory. Her momentary instinct was to run to him and be comforted, like the old times. "Don't leave him, if you're at all fearful, my dear," replied Wood, receiving the little burthen with a laugh. He spent a good deal more money and time than he could afford upon the little room at the top of the house, in producing new lapidary apparatus and new microscopic accessories and in rubbing down slices of rock to a transparent thinness and mounting them in a beautiful and dignified manner.
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