It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. " CHAPTER VI. ” “Of course,” he said, reaching out his hand tentatively for his hat, “I could go away even now. . "Spare him!" cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker,—"spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. We’ve deserted the posts in which we found ourselves, cut our duties, exposed ourselves to risks that may destroy any sort of social usefulness in us.
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