" "Traitor!" cried Sir Rowland—"damned—double-dyed traitor!" "Away with him," vociferated Jonathan to his myrmidons, who, having surrounded Trenchard, hurried him off to the coach before he could utter another word,—"first to Mr. ’ ‘Unfair!’ echoed his junior. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. They are for serving me. But to live at peace with your neighbour…. He walked her home. He could not pull her soul apart now to satisfy that queer absorbing, delving thing which was his literary curiosity; he had put her outside that circle. ” “Any one could see that the girls were ladies,” Ennison murmured. "I can," replied Trenchard. ” “Your husband,” he answered bluntly. . . " And, having partaken of a hasty breakfast, he set out.
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