Perhaps what urged her interest in the young man's direction was the dead whiteness of his face, the puffed eyelids and the bloodshot whites. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left. She had only to get through this, to solace Manning as much as she could, to put such clumsy plasterings on his wounds as were possible, and then, anyhow, she would be free—free to put her fate to the test. We shall be equally matched. "What ho!" he cried slapping Smith, who had fallen asleep with the brandybottle in his grasp, upon the shoulder. " The mortal agony behind those eyes! And all the while he had probably loved his child. The Procession to Tyburn 462 XXXII.
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