"As long as you please, Sir," answered the matron, dropping a curtsey. He, for his part, was trying to grasp the series of unexpected reactions that had so wrecked their tete-a-tete. He will say who it was. "He is gone!" cried Mrs. Perhaps she was. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. We want it badly at the present time. "Thinking it likely you might desire to have this information, I prepared accordingly. ‘But I find you excessively rude, Gérard.
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