Nothing anyone could say or do would change him. "Your uncle must protect you. I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. "We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared. “I shall come back, if at all, a new man. Father-worshipping sons are abnormal— and they’re no good. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself.
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