CHAPTER IX. "May come!—it will come!—it shall come!" cried the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. "Spare me!" Jonathan, however, instead of answering him, searched for his knife, with the intention of severing his wrist. " She paused. People were passing in the street below. “That sounds quite absurd,” she answered. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter.
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