After you went he got up and took refuge in the preparation-room. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman's pocket in our church, during sarvice time,—that he did, the heathen. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. I ought never to have thought of it. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right. He filled the rôle of comrade which Spurlock dared not enact, at least not utterly as he would have liked. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne. But I’m thinking as how I’d best report to the major over this here shooting. Stanley?” “I’ve fallen out with my father.
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