For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone. She leaned back in her chair. ” Anna looked up with a doubtful smile of non-recognition. Hidden menace; a prescience of something dreadful about to happen. Now, she was the very reverse of all this. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his tenth tumbler; "I'm sure he's meditating an escape, and hopes to accomplish it to-night. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. Night and day have been alike to me. He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account.
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