" "And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper, "I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a professed friend. As the day wore on, the crowds diminished,—many who would not submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away ungratified,—and at five o'clock, only two strangers, Mr. Lucy saw it happen as if in slow motion. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. “Well, what is it?” “Montague Hill is recovering consciousness,” he said. "Follow me, Thames," cried Jack, dropping into the chasm. Her grave fine face, her warm clear complexion, had already aroused his curiosity as he had gone to and fro in Morningside Park, and here suddenly he was near to her and talking freely and intimately.
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