Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. . \" Diane chirped once again, ever-musical. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis. "Sit down, fool!" "Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets for your past life sincere?" "Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, "what then?" "Nothing—nothing," stammered Kneebone, his prudence getting the better of his sympathy. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor. Wood. It is most uncomfortable for every one concerned. " "Indeed!" rejoined Sir Rowland, haughtily; "perhaps, you will refresh my memory as to the time, and place. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained.
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