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CHAPTER X. Thames Darrell III. "Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. ‘Is it soft, the way you seize me from behind? Parbleu, my heart it is flown from my chest! Boom, boom, it goes, even now. But, feeling secure of vengeance, he determined to abide his time. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. The study seemed absolutely unaltered, there was still the same lamp with a little chip out of the shade, still the same gas fire, still the same bundle of blue and white papers, it seemed, with the same pink tape about them, at the elbow of the arm-chair, still the same father. No one would ever know what happened to him. When the doctor came in—he had just finished his breakfast—O'Higgins rose and presented his card. Neither combatant could use his sword; and in strength the fugitive was evidently superior to his antagonist. After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. ” “If you can tear yourself away from this delightful place in five minutes,” she answered, “I think I can get rid of the others. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. That is why Wall Street broke your father; he was honest.
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