” She took the pocket-book and looked up at him with a little impulsive movement. At last, he got into a lane, but had not proceeded far when he was again alarmed by the sound of a horse's tread. We close the chapter. ‘If you shoot me,’ Gerald said quickly, throwing out a hand, ‘I shan’t be able to rescue you. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. She wanted to turn him. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. Kneebone assures me he didn't receive them, I can't do otherwise than believe you. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. . . For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments.
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