"Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the candle from the lantern, the better to display the narrow limits of the hole. ” She said. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. ’ Gerald’s eyes never left the girl. Her secret thoughts made some hasty, half-hearted excursions into the possibility of telling the thing in romantic tones—Ramage was as a black villain, she as a white, fantastically white, maiden. ‘Do you tell me that my disreputable son had the infernal insolence to pass you off as that whoring Frenchwoman’s daughter?’ His answer was in their faces. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out.
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