13 with a latchkey went humming lightly up to her room. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. We’re going in. Entering the workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating the tire of a cart wheel. " "Caught you napping, eh?" rejoined Ireton, with a laugh. She forbade him to escape to his workshop in the basement during those times, denying him his one and only hobby. Enter the house with your men. In this spy theory, however, he had no faith whatsoever.
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