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’ ‘Woof!’ uttered the sergeant, jumping back. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held her fast. He was perched on the very edge of the leather seat of the coach, his threecornered hat twisting nervously in his hands, and from time to time he passed a tongue over dry lips. Abruptly she got out of bed, smoothed her sheet and straightened her pillow and lay down, and fell almost instantly asleep. "I imagine I must have a hundred rolls—all the old fellows. Loneliness. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. And she is very young, younger than her years.
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