The chair was torture. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is. "I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. ” 129 She smiled wider. A sophisticated woman would have translated the tone as a caress. Don’t take my word for it though. It was about—a question of what I might do or might not do. But, after some restoratives had been administered by Mrs.
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