“If only Sir John were not Sir John I would ask you to come and have some supper. The poor old imbecile! Why, this child was a firebrand, a wrecker, if ever he had seen one; and the worst kind because she was unconscious of her gifts. She wouldn't be able to pass by anywhere without folks turning their heads. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. " There was a brief, breathless pause. " "Rely on me," rejoined the executioner, throwing away his pipe, which was just finished. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. But, perhaps, you'll first accompany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may arrange our accounts before we start. His example was followed by Darrell.
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