There's another lad at the gate waiting for him—the same who was here just now, that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up the jewelcase for her ladyship. “Rubbish!” he answered. Not much to his surprise, Jack Kimble shook his head. ‘What a fate he finds for me. You have been burning paper, I see. I really am enjoying it. He glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which he could perceive shooting past him with lightning swiftness in the gloom. A dovecoloured kincob gown, embroidered with large trees, and made very low in front, displayed to the greatest possible advantage, the rounded proportions of her figure; while a high-heeled, red-leather shoe did not detract from the symmetry of a very neat ankle, and a very small foot. Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to invade that sacred spot! She could not answer her own questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through her mind.
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