But—it’s one of the things I’ve just been thinking over. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not. He was at length rescued from his assailants,— rescued to perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very gibbet to which he had brought his victim. He used to live in a boarding-house in Russell Square. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. I want to get away—to go to London. For on reaching the second floor, a swishing sound came to Gerald’s ears, as of someone moving about. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. " "May be," returned the man gravely.
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