’ His face changed, all the humour and tenderness leaving it in an instant. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. ‘Oh! little Vee!’ he cried, ‘little Vee!’ and put his face between his hands and sat still for a long time before he broke out again. But only inside, you understand, that one cannot see it. I suspect he has been at work upon those he has on. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. " "At your peril, sirrah!" cried Wood. You have misunderstood.
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