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This unexpected interpolation might spoil the efficacy of all that had gone before. It was as if her aesthetic sense had become inflamed. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. . She sat in deep thought for a moment or two, and then nodding briskly, dipped the pen in the ink again and began to write. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. "Help!—murder!—thieves!" screamed Mrs.
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