"This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. He had let go his name so easily as that! What was the name she had given? Ruth something; he could not remember. ” He said. "I should be perfectly miserable if I thought you in earnest. "It's Mrs. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. They had not so far been of much personal interest to Gerald, but tonight was different.
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