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. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. Several people in the crowd seemed to be fighting. Dolls. Nor was he long in making it available. His eyes on Melusine, he uncocked the pistol, and then reached out to the portrait, grasping it by one edge. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. "I took you for one who wouldn't hesitate to avail himself of any advantage chance might throw in his way," returned the thief-taker, coldly. Womanhood is sacred to me.
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