One day she awoke and he was cavorting about underneath the covers. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. ’ ‘Do you care to test that theory?’ Gerald suggested easily. No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fearful being, should have some misgivings cross him. His business has thriven; legacies have unexpectedly dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea stock,—made it, too, where so many others have lost fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number—ha! ha! In a word, Sir, Mr. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. ” Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. “I don’t know why.
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