"My name is Darrell," said the fugitive hastily. Spurlock mused over the previous night. Figg?" asked Gay. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. What was the old tabby at? Unaccountably embarrassed, he cleared his throat. She felt much better. " "Ah! you're so very particular," sighed Mrs. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. ’ She sniffed and swallowed.
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