"Hear! hear!" vociferated Quilt. " "And who is its mother?" asked Jonathan, in an eager whisper. He might be unfortunate, but he would scarcely be a fool. Had he been trying to stop the grim descent, and had he dimly perceived that perhaps a fine deed would serve as the initial barrier? A drunken idea—a pearl in the midst of a rubbish heap. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. Does this not disturb you?” 278 “Of course it disturbs me. ’ Lucilla frowned.
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