“Mr. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. She felt his whole mind sounding in ecstasy. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. “Touch a hair on his head and you will insure that I will never make love to you again. The first time, I overlooked the offence; but the second time, when I had planned to break open the house of his master, the fellow who visited you to-night,—Wood, the carpenter of Wych Street,—he betrayed me. See, it is on my cards—M.
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