. For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. Not a breath was drawn. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. He not only did this, but supplied him with an ointment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent ale. Red apples and snow! How often had these two things entered his thoughts since his wanderings began? Red apples and snow!—and never again to behold them! "I am going out for a little while," she said. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly.
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