” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again. Men do not understand constancy as women do. ” Courtlaw seemed about to say something. Oh, and weeks and months of thought and feeling there are bottled up too. Kneebone, having been alarmed by something in the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his pocket-book,—about the security of which, as it contained several letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,—and finding it gone, he felt certain he had been robbed. “If you think it worth while,” she answered doubtfully. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. "Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me.
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