The poor widow was thrown into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed, in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. “Or I wouldn’t have said anything about it. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. Will you?” She thought, and it seemed to him she had never looked so self-disciplined and deliberate and beautiful. “How so?” “I should have shared these things with you earlier, my sweet heart. The Night-Cellar. So go up-stairs and get your things together while I look out for a hansom. ” Courtlaw seemed about to say something.
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