Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. “As my lady wills. But you must promise me not to go near that abandoned hussy at Willesden. “It is a delightful day for walking, but a great deal too cold to be standing on the pavement. “So am I. Pah!’ She flounced about and, crossing to the bed, plonked down on it, pointedly averting her face and resting the large pistol in her lap. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. ” She replied with a rehearsed answer, “I was told that my real mother died the day I was born.
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