Stanley took the letter and stood with it in his hand thoughtfully for a time. " "Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering. I know something about men. ’ Gerald sat back in his chair, thinking hard. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing, "and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not. . " "Both are dead," observed the knight, gloomily. ’ ‘I thank you,’ Gerald said drily. " "Never!" rejoined Kneebone, with increased ardour,—"never, till I receive from your own lips the answer which is to make me the happiest or the most miserable of mankind. Mauled about!” She fell to rubbing her insulted lips savagely with the back of her hand.
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