The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. He was unable to possess Lucy's hand as he had in the cinema, separated by the annoying chasm between the van's plush seats. How dreary it all looks. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. Courtlaw, is it not,” she remarked, with lifted eyebrows.
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