"Is it poison?" she asked. " "Thames Ditton—is that your name?" "No," replied the boy, impatiently; "Darrell—Thames Darrell. I’ve always wanted to look older. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. "But I can guess what it's for. Think! Had you not better hurry back before Sir John discovers? You are his wife right enough. You’re splendid stuff, you know, but you’ve got nothing ready to sell. "What will you do?" asked Thames.
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