But if I escape, my gratitude—" "Pshaw!" interrupted Jonathan, scornfully. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. “My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. Kneebone. Come with me to the Condemned Hold directly, and, if I find my fears confirmed, I'll—" He was here interrupted by the sudden entrance of the black, who rushed precipitately into the room, letting fall the heavy bunch of keys in his fright. “Just leave them with me for now, Clotilde. Kneebone said, just now.
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