In the evening, a band of village musicians, accompanied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden, strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic concert under the great elm before the door. Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. “And yet,” he said, “you bid me talk cheerfully, or not at all. " "Comin'! comin'!" returned the constable, shuffling towards him. 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. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone.
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