Wood, in indignant surprise. “She’s going to have some sort of meal with the Widgetts down the Avenue, and go up with them. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. He knew what he knew. ‘Your niece, ma’am. . ’ The sharp eyes twinkled. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation. ‘I do not wish to be like him, but it is entirely reasonable that it should be so. Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea.
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