Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. ” She laid her hand softly upon his. Spurling; Austin had never quitted his post. Jackson!" "So he would," replied the latter: "so he would. That would be an unkind twist of fate. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. And then I'll pay off old scores.
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