” Mike blurted, his voice swallowed by the throb of loud music. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. ’ ‘Well for him,’ remarked Captain Roding. \" Said John as he piled the papery remnants of their meal onto the tray. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. Ireton will do no such thing," replied the head-turnkey. She admired and rather pitied him, and she was unfeignedly grateful to him. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. ‘That will be a matter for her future husband to decide. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile. It’s my choice, Lucy.
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