‘More nor that. . But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. "It only leads to the fencing crib," replied Wild. ’ ‘Oh, have you?’ grunted Gerald, surprising in himself a surge of some odd emotion at these words. Opposite, his pupil stood with bowed head and clasped hands. Lucy felt her heart splinter in her breast. But you must tell her. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. . The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. She leaned forward in her chair, as if petrified in fear by the scary story.
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