” “Then I am sure,” Sir John declared, “that I shall not ask you. But God did not put you next door. Where can we sit down and talk?” He led her across the room towards a window recess, in which a tall, fair young man was seated with an evening paper in his hand. You really ought not to stay here and talk to us. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. "What motive have you for concealment?" he demanded. " Jonathan made no answer, but snatching a torch from a bystander, jumped into the trench and commenced a diligent search. ’ Roding started. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said.
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