You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. I want to get away—to go to London. She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. " The clock tinkled ten. “Concern me!” she repeated fiercely. ‘That is what she wants, is it?’ ‘Do you blame her?’ he said stiffly. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. When you've seized him, cough thrice thus,—and two rough-looking gentlemen will make their appearance.
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