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‘Am I right in supposing you to have been a sister to the late Mr Jarvis Remenham?’ ‘Quite right. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. But the morning brought courage again, and those first intimations of horror vanished completely from her mind. All her protests seemed stifled before she could find words to utter them. I loathe this room. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. " "'No doubt,'" said Wood, who had again turned over the leaves of the sacred volume—', "no doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though he escaped the seas, yet vengeance suffereth not to live'. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg.
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