Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an ecstacy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over the prisoner. The pistol was his own, it is true, but it was one which was taken from him when he forced his way in upon me before. "Many thanks, Sir," replied Thornhill, with freezing politeness; "but Id not require assistance. She crooked her finger. Then Gosse spoke again, answering the question in her mind. “Thank you. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. As far as I recollect, there were two. And it is not at all his affair.
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