” “On the contrary,” Anna whispered quietly, “we met in a small boarding-house where I was stopping. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. I'll talk to her in the morning, but she won't understand what I'm driving at. Alban's to-night. I need only just jump up and throw myself upon you. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. From his wallet he brought forth a yellow letter. A little Madeira seemed to recover her enough to resume the discussion.
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