‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Never had he been so intrigued. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. He was only a younger son, and you know what trouble we had. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. " "Not now—not now!" she returned, with a shudder. As this gentleman was going away, he said to Jack in a jesting manner, 'that he should be glad to see him to-night at supper. Jove, he didn’t take to it kindly, I can tell you. The lamp was not yet lit, and in the dim light he bent forward as though trying to look into her averted face. I ought to have seen—” “It doesn’t matter a rap—if you’re not disposed to resent the—the way I behaved.
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