"I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. “Sometimes it is not bad. "I witnessed the bet. If you do not help me to read the riddle of yourself, Annabel, I think that very soon I shall be a candidate for the asylum. What a heat that news had wrought. "I'll run and bring him back.
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