Luckily, she was bereft of consciousness, and was thus spared the additional misery of witnessing what afterwards befell him. The Wastrel did not relish this. Wood, who had been absent on business during the greater part of the day, returned (perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier hour than was expected, to his dwelling in Wych Street, Drury Lane; and was about to enter his workshop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice, of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt, was neglecting his employment. Let’s go up to my room. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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