This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. " "There's a funny idea in my head. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. She was carefree. She could not go to him with a preachment against strong drink; she knew from experience that such a plan would be wasted effort. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. The young man looked at her. It was a work of no slight danger, for every instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing to the ground. .
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