"Her blood be upon her own head, then," replied Rowland, sternly. "Who took it thence?" "Thames Darrell; the boy at your side. “Never mind the bill,” said Manning tragically, standing up and thrusting a four-shilling piece into her hand, and turning a broad back on her astonishment. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience. About noon, next day, he was able to move; and the gale having abated, he set out homewards with his little charge. You don’t understand. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair. In any event, I would not have let her escape me so easily. CHAPTER VIII.
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