Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. 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. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. ‘Yes, I thought you’d say that. " "Take it back yourself," retorted Jack, sullenly. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. Fast asleep, he is. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. You never can tell.
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