"Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. It isn’t because you’re good, but because I may be rotten bad; and there’s something—something living and understanding in you. Returning to the audience-chamber in a by-no-means enviable state of mind, he commanded the Jew to throw the body of Thames into the Well Hole. He suggested they take the remains of the household to his country estate, where he could at least hunt through the winter to provide them venison and grouse. " "I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a smile. " Ruth slightly brushed the withered cheek. The Storm.
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