"Oh! never mind him: he'll take no harm! Come with me into the parlour. Jackson smiled and put on the air of a man who knows more than he cares to tell. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. I could make away with him at once, as you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir Rowland,—but that wouldn't serve my turn.
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