"Stay!" cried Wood, "this is a most perplexing business—if you really are privy to the affair——" "We'll talk of it to-morrow, Sir," returned Jackson, cutting him short. Least of all myself. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. “I’ll be hanged if I do. I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. “No!” Michelle said too eagerly. The two hostlers, however, kept close at his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not hold much longer.
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