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” She stopped with an air of interrogation. This was not the sort of confession which he had been expecting. Then for the first time she was conscious of an unaccountable and terrifying sensation. Apart from everything else, this meeting of ours is a breach of a good rule. ” His arms were around her. " "So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping himself to an enormous pinch of snuff with the air of a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his gallantry,—"so she was. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. A short way off in the fields he descried a sort of shed or cow-house, and thither he contrived to drag his weary limbs.
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