" "Are you sure of that?" returned Winifred, looking uneasily at Jack. "Pursue him," cried Thames to the attendants, "and see that he does not escape. In the mean time, let me advise you as a friend not to irritate him by a refusal, which would be as useless as vexatious. At least, I hope so for his sake as well as my own," he added, mentally. Jack now carefully closed the shutters, while Blueskin struck a light, with which he set fire to a candle. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt. “Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. We may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser.
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