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’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. I do forgive him; but he will never know now. Kneebone! you would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself. They entered a hansom and turned on to the Embankment. There were sidetables and a writing table, similarly buried in bric-a-brac, and the chair by the French doors could hardly be seen for blankets. . “And you must please not look at me as though I were an executioner,” she declared lightly. Farewell. CHAPTER XVIII.
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