There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. You women, with your tricks of evasion, you’re a sex of swindlers. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. The situation bothered him considerably. He did not stagger in the least. Lucy found solace in the lack of sunshine, but the November cold was over the top, even for Illinois. "Do you think I'm afeard of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons? Not I. Me, you may have. "Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from the noise he made, suiting the action to the word. " "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. "What! you still hesitate! Will that rouse you, coward?" And she gave him a smart rap on the head. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack.
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