"My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. . “There were some Hampshire Pellissiers. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. It is a most inauspicious start for you. It was only a matter of time. " "Entreat a fiddlestick!" retorted Mrs. ‘The nuns, they teach prayer and obedience. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. 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. But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands.
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