Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found the place of which he was in search. ’ ‘I would have done, only you threatened to blow off my head,’ Gerald reminded her, laughing. It was his particular hobby, and the leisure he had to apply to it had given him a remarkable appraising eye. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth. 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. One point in her narrative stood out beyond all others.
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