’ With satisfaction, Gerald noted that her voice was hopelessly unsteady and drove home his advantage. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. So he resolved to try another tack. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. "That depends upon you. She kissed him with a closed mouth, not as recklessly as she was tempted to do. ” She smiled faintly. "Here's a cross-bite. Niente.
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