She had heard the trader utter it many times. Tell me, Sir," she added, with forced calmness, and grasping Wood's arm; "what has Jack done? Tell me in a word, that I may know the worst. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone. "Forgive—forgive me!" "I have nothing to forgive," replied Mrs. " "Write him," urged Spurlock, finding speech. At the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled upon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass-cases, so many open cabinets, ranged against the walls; but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. Looking sullen, he released the handle and sat back. As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection. One cannot trust any man at all. In this state, it will be easy to draw him into a snare.
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