CHAPTER XVI Ah cum began to worry. The chair was torture. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. For was not Gerald a gentleman? An Englishman, whose services any female—excluding her own self so idiote— would be very happy to have. "I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose-chase to Mr. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. I think he got sick of us and he disappeared not one week later. When Mr.
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