Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. I might utter a million, and still I doubt if I could make you understand. The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. good at that. But,” and he faced them both with a still expressionless glance, “this is not the end!” Anna recovered her spirits with marvellous facility. . He was safe, out of the beaten track, at last really comparable to the needle in the haystack. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point.
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