"Will you plead?" demanded Wild, harshly. He was about to cut the sergeant short, when his eye fell on a gentleman walking along Piccadilly, his manner uncertain, his eyes shifting as if he sought something out. Wood cut him short by stating his intention of crossing the river as soon as possible in order to avoid the storm. "Souls," she answered, drily. I always told you some accident would happen. He resolved to judge for himself. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her view. But I do not love you.
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