” He stepped back as though he had received a blow. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. She cried as he watched, frozen to the ground. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. " "It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, endeavouring to alarm him. "Quick. She hoped desperately that Mrs. She glanced at him and made a dismissive gesture. ” She replied gently. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up. " CHAPTER XXV.
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