" "As many as you please," replied Wood, walking towards the chimney-piece, and taking down a constable's, staff, which hung upon a nail. To dream and to labour: to you, my labour; to Ruth, my dreams. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. ‘You will release me at once, imbecile. I’ve had the rarest luck and fallen on my feet. ‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat.
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