" "That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bridewell," observed Sharples. ” “Please tell me why?” she asked. It 163 invariably leads to trouble. ‘I only wish I might have won her confidence. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. If Martha knew all, she would certainly die of shock. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. Then he took the pulse. How I wish I might meet this delightful mystery lady of yours.
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