He embraced her, kissing her cheek, then her neck. ” John replied. Before I met you I never met any one whom I felt I could love, but you have discovered depths in my own nature I had scarcely suspected. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. “Let me hasten,” she said, “to reassure you. Certain of my prey, I can afford to wait for it. .
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