" "What is it?" asked the poor woman. But Jack speedily burst it open with the iron bar. “DEAR MR. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. Mr. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you. You intrigue me. ’ Gerald was relieved to find the girl did not attempt to run away, but meekly allowed him to usher her into the spacious and comfortable library which was his habitual haunt when at home. It was only a matter of time.
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