“Don’t!” she begged. "Another moment, and it'll be too late. " "I will carry you to the house, or fetch Mr. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. The pursuit of pleasure, selfgratification, is an original instinct with her. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. That's why I'm so anxious to get her to a haven. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled. " Jack again seized the bar, and, dashing it furiously against the door, speedily burst it open. ’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am.
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