Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. Groping their way through one or two dark and mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of steps, which brought them to the hall. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. By this time, he had apparently accomplished all he desired; for moving the bottle out of Jack's reach, he appropriated it entirely to his own use, leaving the devoted lad to the care of the females. ’ ‘Don’t tell me,’ exploded his second-in-command. He turned to observe what this object was that had so unexpectedly diverted the young man's attention. “You didn’t expect that I should kiss you?” “How was I to know that a man would—would think it was possible—when there was nothing—no love?” “How did I know there wasn’t love?” That silenced her for a moment. “You’re. “By-the-bye, Lady Ferringhall,” he said, “do you know that I am a very great admirer of your sister’s? I wonder if she has ever spoken to you of me. ’ He reached into an inner pocket of his coat and brought out a packet of papers. “I wish this hadn’t turned up to-day of all days. " "I don't know.
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