"But you are tired!" "I want to go over the story again. I’d to go to Remenham House as well, and show Pottiswick your letter of authorisation. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. He drew her closer. Nobody can trust you. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. Mrs. Blueskin will take care of the horses, and I'll go with you. " "It is so, nevertheless," replied Wild. " "I won't reproach you, Jack," said the other, sternly. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins. Her tone was hoarse with passion. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see.
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