" "Make your choice," said Jonathan. “I do not think that he is quite dead. As a matter of fact it isn’t their affair. "I am Owen Wood, at your service. ’ He heard Roding snort, and suppressed a grin as he bowed, taking the trouble to salute Madame’s hand and cast her a provocative look as he did so. Behind the illustrious personages just described marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges in their hats, quarterstaves, oaken cudgels, and links in their hands. At last the panel swung back into the library. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. The natural gaiety of the place seemed to have affected them both. " "To-morrow will be too late," replied the widow, in a hollow voice, "I feel it will.
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