"Rowland," said Lady Trafford, regarding him with a look of indescribable anxiety, "you have assured me that I shall behold my son. “Would you mind calling that hansom for me?” He looked at it critically and shook his head. And I do not know you. "Fool!" he cried, "do you think I wouldn't have secured you before this if I hadn't some motive for my forbearance?" "And that motive is fear," replied Jack contemptuously. And so she came upon the word Love. But I'll be more lenient, and content myself with merely chastising you, on condition—" "You may do as you please, master," interrupted Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search of the knife; "but I wouldn't advise you to lay hands on me again. " Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry. "If you've a fancy for the girl, we might do it. A long shrill cat-call in the gallery seemed to be the signal.
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