. " O'Higgins emptied an inside pocket—and purposely let the battered photograph fall to the ground. Yet before she turned once more to resume her flight she schooled herself with an effort to look where it had happened. Corbet Kynaston, then? Sir John Packington's courier was here yesterday. “No! I want to do without that. Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most urgent entreaty, "before you take me hence, I implore you—if you would further the ends of justice—search this house. I presume that I may not kiss you in the street?” “Certainly not, sir,” she replied, laughing. What would you? I cannot fight them all. ’ Then she frowned. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright.
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