I will be as silent as the grave. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. His face was that of a quick, intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear olive complexion. “You can look as innocent and shocked as you please. One doesn’t go about with these passions allayed simply because they have made wreckage and a scandal. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent. A time may come when this little chap will need my aid, and, depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen Wood.
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