"What shall we do, Poll?" hesitated Edgeworth Bess. \" He said. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. She's plenty clean below. " The answer to this request was a "smack" of a very different description, bestowed upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little damsel, as she ran out of the room. The old woman told him she had no such article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neighbouring blacksmith. "There'll be a louder echo here presently," thought Jonathan. He glanced up at Roding and met his eyes. Spurlock relaxed, suddenly, and sank deeply into his pillows. “Forgive me,” he decided to say at last, and his voice had a little quiver of emotion, and he laid his hand on hers upon her knee. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral.
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