"Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. He was the true optimist; and that he should proceed, serenely unconscious of reefs and storms, she accepted the double buffets. But for perfect satisfaction, he must take a peek into the bedroom. He had studied alchemy and astronomy, was a capable painter, and even wrote music. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. " "My penance forbids it," said Trenchard, waving his hand. "And, now I'll tell you what they do. Life waits for us. They've heard quite enough for my purpose," he muttered, as his orders were obeyed, and the domestics excluded. He sent me home. She's not for pleasure, but for work.
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