"Never throw away a chance," thought Jonathan. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. The carpenter well knew from the obstacle which had interfered with his own progress, that the unknown could not have passed through the same lock as himself. The office is a sight—not one sheet of paper on another; bills and receipts everywhere. With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and, as the intercourse with London was then but slight, the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the villagers. The thing rankled in her mind night and day. Very well, then. Sheppard despairingly.
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