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Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. “I didn’t think you’d come. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. And, mind, it's for his sister, Lady Trafford.
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