"Hurrah! come along, Thames; we're free. I love your very breath. Perhaps that other boy who visited you backstage at the concert. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. God! I have cheated myself into a belief that the boy perished! And now my worst fears are realized —he lives!" "As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis. You jumped, and I think that you left me. So I had to buy out his interest, and it pinched me dreadfully to do it. God forgive you!" "May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child escaped. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and keep it.
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