The youth produced a crumpled-up card from his waistcoat pocket. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. “To the best of my belief,” she said, with quiet dignity, “I have never seen either of you before in my life. Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. This done, she waited at the side of the bed; but he gave no sign that he was conscious of her nearness. I—I don’t understand,” the man faltered wearily. His subjects, however, were no longer entirely under his control; and, though he managed to enforce some little attention to his commands, it was evident his authority was waning fast.
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